


Lost Defenders of Thedas

by FenZev



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adventure, Bromance, F/M, Intrigue, Love, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenZev/pseuds/FenZev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran and Fenris unite in the search for the women who own their hearts. Travel with them as they discover who is behind the disappearances of the Hero of Ferelden, the Champion of Kirkwall, and the Right Hand of the Divine! A possible answer to the questions the game left us with. Post DA2 story so I get to do what I want! Please note this is not a slash fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

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* * *

**._.~`~._.Prologue._.~`~._.**

* * *

_Just west of the heart of Orlais, deep within the Nahashin Marshes..._

She waited.

In the heat of summer, the insects buzzed in her ear and feasted on her flesh. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day she wondered why she had chosen such a secluded spot for the meeting. A tavern in Val Chevin would've been sufficient, or a nice cozy cabin in Montfort. Even a back alley in the lower levels of Val Royeaux would've been better than this. What was she thinking?

She brushed the drying mud from her boots and waited by the dead Oak tree, her ears attuned to the natural sounds of the area and on guard for anything out of place. The leather she wore, always for protection, seemed suffocating; the sweat from her skin forcing her to shift uncomfortably. It was hot, too hot, and the humidity from the marsh didn't help matters. One more hour she'd wait and then she had to get out of there. The murky water, shadowed by some florescent green substance, was becoming dangerously appealing.

A twig snapped under the weight of someone behind her, and she spun around quickly, daggers in hand, nearly striking the elf where he stood. He grabbed her wrists, spun her around so her weapons and arms were behind her, and whispered in her ear, "my dear Leliana, so delicious and all alone, tsk tsk. Whatever shall I do with you?"

Leliana brought his arms and hers over her head and spun around, reversing the move on him. Now both of her daggers pressed against his spine and she leaned into him. "Zevran, I told you to stop sneaking up on women. One day you will press your luck and it would be such a shame to lose you!"

She released her hold on him and he turned around, her arms immediately around his neck in an embrace. Zevran reached around her waist and allowed a moment of old friendship warmth to wash over them before grabbing her rear and forcing her to shriek. "You haven't changed a bit," she said playfully smacking him on the arm when he released her.

"Change is a good thing, however it is not for me," Zevran admitted as he leaned against the large Oak tree, folding his arms. "I imagine you didn't send for me because you missed me, especially knowing what I have been up to. So tell me my deliciously deadly bard, what is so urgent that you must drag me to the dreaded marshes of Orlais?"

"I guess that means you have learned nothing new then," Leliana questioned as she secured her weapons.

"A few rumors, some leads, nothing with any real substance," Zevran replied. He dared to have a little hope. "Why, do you know something?"

Leliana sighed. "Next to nothing I'm afraid. Not as far as _she_ is concerned. But something else has happened and I believe it may all be connected."

"Do tell," Zevran demanded, his sudden serious demeanor surprising her.

No, she shouldn't be surprised. His heart, his love, the Hero of Ferelden, had been missing for months. He tirelessly retraced every step of hers, and he hated himself for not being by her side when she disappeared. The Crows had endangered them both, and Zevran fled to Kirkwall to keep her safe. But upon his return news spread that she was missing, and he hasn't stopped searching since.

"Two more have gone missing since Neria," Leliana told him, seeing the pain in his eyes when she mentioned her name. "I come to you because one of the missing is a colleague of mine, Cassandra Pentaghast. She is a Seeker, the Right Hand of the Divine, and the Hero of Orlais."

Zevran rubbed his chin, ideas already flooding to his mind. "Someone would have gone to great lengths to capture someone of her stature," Zevran mused.

"Indeed," Leliana agreed. "She was taken during a return trip from Kirkwall. The seekers and templars that were with her have no idea what happened. I was with them as well, and I can recall nothing out of the ordinary that would explain her absence. Cassandra just...disappeared."

"Just like Neria," Zevran stated, lost for a moment in the vision of his love; her long brown hair with highlights of gold under the sun's rays, her hazel eyes that always had held an extra spark just for him. He missed her warmth, her innocence, her laughter...

"Zev?"

Leliana's voice pierced through his remembrance, and he apologized. He ran his leather gloved hands through his hair and then posed a question to Leliana. "Your Cassandra...what was she doing in Kirkwall before she was taken?"

"Ah, the rest of the story," Leliana responded. "We were both in Kirkwall investigating something for the Divine. After Neria disappeared, well, some assumed she just went into hiding with you. But then after the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall, it seems another hero went missing as well."

Zevran's eyes widened. "The Champion?"

Leliana nodded. "Three defenders of Thedas, now lost. This is no coincidence Zev. Neria, Marian Hawke, Cassandra...someone must be behind this."

Zevran nodded, agreeing with her. "What is it you wish me to do," he asked her. "My only concern is Neria, but I agree we may all be searching for the same thing."

Leliana sighed. "My hands are tied Zev. The Divine is prepared to march her armies on whoever is responsible for Cassandra's disappearance. But we don't know who that is, and she will not allow me leave to find out on my own. It would be easier for someone of your skill to slip into places I cannot with an army at my back. I know you have already been looking, so I wondered if this new information could help."

"It does," Zevran nodded.

"I'm afraid I am unable to assist you further," Leliana said sadly. "If the Divine knew I told you all I already have, she would throw me in prison for divulging Chantry secrets. I wish I could go with you...I can't imagine this has been easy for you, going it alone."

"No need to worry that pretty head of yours," Zevran smiled. New ideas and strategies were already forming in his mind. More missing women meant more leads, other options to explore, areas to search...all beneficial in helping him get one step closer to Neria. "I will do what I can to bring this Cassandra back to you. And as far as being alone, that may change as well." Zevran thought of the time he was in Kirkwall, of the day he met Marian Hawke and her friends. "If the Champion of Kirkwall is missing, I know exactly who to ask for assistance."


	2. Chapter 1

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**._.~`~._.Chapter One._.~`~._.**

* * *

There was a fierceness in his pacing that hadn't been there prior to Hawke's disappearance. Varric stopped watching him hours ago; the movements of blurred lyrium markings moving back and forth were starting to make his head spin. Besides, he had seen it before. Every day in fact since Hawke disappeared, the elven warrior would spend the evening leaving distinct marks in whatever floor he happened to stalk upon. Weeks had gone by with no word from the blond-haired rogue, and her lover was ready to shed his skin in agony.

Aveline entered Varric's room and the incessant noise of footsteps slapping against wood ceased; until he looked up and saw the Captain of the Guard had an all too familiar expression on her face. She knew nothing, had heard nothing, and would eventually say, ' _tomorrow something may turn up.'_

This time he didn't wait for it. Tonight he had heard enough of empty promises and dead ends. He stormed passed her without a word, and Aveline sighed, shaking her head. "If he keeps this up someone is going to get hurt."

Varric nodded, gesturing for her to have a seat. "He blames himself for not being there. Until she's back within reach he isn't going to settle down." Varric didn't want to admit it, but he too was concerned about Fenris. With each passing day he was spiraling out of control. Their relationship had tamed the wild beast; now without Hawke, Fenris was quickly losing himself to his anger.

" _If_ she comes back," Aveline stated gravely, her words startling Varric. "It's been a long time Varric. How long are we supposed to keep looking?" She didn't want to admit it, but there was no sign of the Champion, and they were running out of options.

Varric leaned back in his chair, eyeing Bianca beside him. He kept his cool better than Fenris, but his trigger finger was twitchy as well. "And if the situation were reversed? How long until she'd give up searching for one of us?" He wasn't ready to admit defeat. When Varric wasn't busy watching Fenris to make sure he didn't rip into any chests, he was meeting with all of his contacts throughout the city for any word.

Aveline knew he had a point. Marian considered all of them family and would spend her last breath if it meant saving one of them. "We have been through all the ships manifests of that day a hundred times," she reminded him. "The guards posted at the gates have been questioned until they lost their voices. There is no way she got out of the city. Not by any normal means."

Varric leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Those Seekers were digging for something. I would've suspected them as the villains in this mystery if Cassandra hadn't begged me for Hawke's location." Varric rubbed his chin in thought. "I wonder if Choir-boy has any new information in that department."

"He was due back a week ago," Aveline commented. "The situation in Starkhaven must be worse than he thought."

"This business with the mages can't be helping any," Varric retorted. "We're barely settling down here, but word on the street is every circle in Thedas is attempting what Anders and Orsino did."

"You'd think Kirkwall would be an example of what _not_ to do," Aveline stated. "Is it connected to Hawke's disappearance?"

"Shit if I know," he replied. "But if the Seekers are sniffing around, that can only mean a Divine intervention is looming on the horizon. A city without a Viscount, Cullen the new Knight-Commander, and now a missing Champion? If the exalted march comes, there will be no Kirkwall for Hawke to return to, wherever she is."

"Perhaps I could shed some light on it for you," a voice came from the door. "Unless you wish to continue guessing, then by all means, please do so."

Varric let his right arm fall to the side of his chair, gripping Bianca. "Well well, if it isn't the Crow from Antiva," he said suspiciously.

" _Former_ Crow," Zevran stated as he entered the room, "if you remember correctly." He grabbed a chair at Varric's table and turned it backwards before sitting down. "I wish to know everything you told the Seekers, and then everything you did not."

* * *

It had only been two weeks since Orana left to work for the de Launcets, but the exterior of the estate was quickly being overrun from neglect. He approached the front door, ignoring the ivy that now climbed the walls and nearly covered the crests on either side. The candle to the left of the door was long cold, burnt out of existence save for the pile of wax on the ground beneath it. Not long ago he would still knock, enjoying her scolding for not using his key, which inevitably led to the discussion of why he hadn't moved in yet.

Now he regretted not having done so.

Fenris entered the estate and shut the door, locking it once more. He entered the foyer only a few feet before sitting on the wooden bench that was _his_ , or so she'd once informed him. Fenris never bothered waiting in the main room for her, or the library, or even her bedroom when she prepared to go out. This was his bench. This is where he'd remain, until she'd flash him her devious smile and they'd be off.

It was also where she found him the night of their first kiss.

_He needed to see her. After Hadriana, she tried to comfort him, but he wasn't ready. Her touch sent a warmth through his body he had never before experienced, and it was too much to be near her. "We're friends, Fenris," she had said, but the moment her hand was on his shoulder, he felt something more._

_"I'm not certain I know what that is," he said as he exited the estate. The hate was still in his heart, Hadriana's blood on his hands, and he didn't want to ruin his time with Hawke while dealing with the anger inside of him._

_She came to him a few nights later and he told her everything. All the details of his past; his time on the run, the death of the fog warriors, of his many regrets. Not once did she judge him; her copper eyes full of compassion instead of censure. It was then he realized perhaps he_ did _know what a friend was. When Hawke suggested it might mean more than that, it was like a warm breath on his cold heart. She boldly offered herself to him, but the timing still wasn't right. Discussing his past with her had tarnished the evening, and he wanted nothing more than for their first time together to be perfect._

_The nights passed until he could stand it no longer. Fenris sat on the bench in her foyer, picking at the chew marks in the wood from Jaeger, Hawke's mabari. His heart began to speed up at the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his courage. Her sweet voice called to him from the doorway; the sound of his name from her lips calmed his nerves instantly._

_"I have been thinking of you," he admitted to her. "In fact I've been able to think of little else." He approached her with a hunger he'd never felt before. "Command me to go, and I shall."_

Whatever words she had spoken were lost to him now. Her arms around him and the warmth of her mouth on his were all he cared to remember of that moment. He looked at the wall where he'd pressed so tightly against her in his need, the taste of her lips from their first kiss still a warming memory. "Hawke," he called her name as if she'd answer, hanging his head in despair.

A cold nose began pushing at his hands, and Fenris fell into his now normal routine. Jaeger welcomed him home in silence, seeking what little attention the warrior would give. A soft whine meant that the dog shared his pain, missing Hawke just as much. A few scratches behind the ear, a shared moment of longing, and then Fenris stood and followed the hound towards the kitchen to prepare their meal.

He lit a few candles in the estate as the sun disappeared behind gray storm clouds amassing outside the windows. Eventually he would have to purchase more candles, as well as re-supply the now empty larder. He briefly regretted his decision to allow Orana a change in positions as he studied the condition of the kitchen. Dishes were left uncared for. Herbs had turned brown from lack of water and attention. The floor remained unswept; his bare foot prints smearing the dirt alongside Jaeger's paw prints.

Hawke would cringe if she saw her home in this condition; he knew this, and scolded himself for allowing it to become so disordered and filthy. Jaeger continued to eat as Fenris began gathering the dishes, placing them carefully in the washbasin. Once completed, he took the last of the clean towels and dried them, before opening the cupboard to put them away.

His heart tightened in his chest as he saw the tea cup on the shelf, and suddenly he could barely breathe. If that cup was on a table, Hawke was right beside it. Fenris couldn't recall a time when she didn't have tea near at hand; it was a symbol of her. So much so that he had never seen her cup in the cabinet, and to see it there now, tucked away and abandoned, brought his anguish and pain roiling to the surface again.

Jaeger's head snapped to attention as the cup shattered into pieces against the wall. It wasn't enough to calm him however, and Fenris continued shattering plates and glasses. The hound barked at him in protest as yet another plate hit the wall, but Fenris could hear nothing above the pounding in his chest. It was all meaningless; this room, her things, none of it mattered without _her_ , and he'd rather see it all destroyed than be reminded of her again.

Systematically now he tore through the estate, violently releasing his torment on her possessions. Wine bottles broke, decorating the walls as she loved to tease him. He fought the smile that rose at the memory; it brought him no comfort and he continued on his rampage. Statues were heaved from their pedestals and smashed in chalky bits on the floor, pictures were torn from the walls, their frames splintered and twisted, chairs, sofas and desks all overturned in a lyrium-lit frenzy that he could not, would not control.

_Where was she?_

He bellowed his rage to the empty mansion as his back arched and his markings burst more brightly blue from the torment of losing her. He'd lost his Hawke.

"Where are you?!" he howled.

Fenris spun and stalked to the stairway, intent on more destruction. He was, however, not allowed to continue further. Jaeger stood in front of him and growled, baring his teeth in a clear warning.

"Out of my way," Fenris snarled back, but it had no effect on the mabari. _Venhedis!_ Whatever he had planned on doing to Hawke's room, and even to her dead mother's room, Jaeger was not going to allow it.

As Fenris was about to fight with the hound over dominance of the second floor, the front door opened, startling them both. Fenris knew he had locked the door when he came in, and immediately he was on high alert. Markings still bright with rage, Fenris moved towards the foyer and grabbed the intruder by the neck.

"I see you are still angry about our last encounter," Zevran barely choked out the words as Fenris' grip grew stronger.

But Fenris was so lost in his fury that his only thought was to kill whoever had dared entered his lover's home.


	3. Chapter 2

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**._.~`~._.Chapter Two._.~`~._.**

* * *

The grip on his neck tightened as Zevran stared into haunted green eyes. The soft glow of lyrium markings come to life caused a blue tint to the elf's normally white hair, and Zevran felt his vision begin to fade as he became lost in its reflection. Instinct of survival kicked in and suddenly a flask hit the ground, shattering at their feet. Fenris immediately backed away; the shock bomb draining his stamina just long enough for Zevran to slip under his grasp and get behind him. A thin blade pressed to his throat stilled Fenris from further assault as Varric casually rambled into the estate.

"You know elf, there are better ways to greet someone," Varric said to Fenris as he strolled passed the two elves and into the living room. Upon seeing the destruction Fenris had wrought, Varric shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Either someone was looking for something, or you're having a really bad day."

Fenris didn't reply as the blade still caressed his neck. Zevran pressed into his back and whispered in his ear. "You will need to start trusting me my friend, if we are to retrieve your Hawke."

He waited until the knife was withdrawn and then Fenris spun around with lightning speed. "Do that again, _my friend_ , and I will crush your heart where you stand."

"Fair enough," Zevran replied as he moved into the main room with Varric. "I love what you've done to the place," he commented as he right-sided a chair and sat down. Jaeger withdrew from his self-appointed position as guard of the second floor to inspect Zevran, his wide nose curiously inhaling the scents on his boots as if they might make a fine meal. Jaeger's cold wet nose proceeded to sniff curiously up his leg and towards his crotch before Zevran finally placed a hand to stop him. "What, no dinner? Flowers?"

Fenris released a low growl and snapped his fingers, which caused Jaeger to run back to the stairs. Varric leaned up against the wall as Fenris glared at him. "What do you know?" Fenris asked, looking between the two men.

"I'd prefer to spin the tale over some drinks at the Hanged Man, but this couldn't wait," Varric began, speaking for Zevran in the hopes of calming Fenris a bit. "The assassin here believes Hawke's disappearance may not be an isolated incident."

"I believe whoever has taken your Champion has taken my Warden as well," Zevran explained to Fenris. "And most recently, the very Seeker who left Kirkwall after so adeptly interrogating your dwarven friend here," he said and gestured to Varric, "has also gone missing. Three very powerful women did not simply vanish off the face of Thedas."

"You know where they are?" Fenris questioned impatiently.

"Not yet," Zevran stated. "I have exhausted my search for the Warden, and have come here to find new clues."

Fenris sighed, resigning himself to the fact that this was a useless discussion. "I have torn this city apart. There is nothing here."

Zevran stood but kept his distance, hoping his next words wouldn't offend the warrior. "Might I suggest we start from the beginning? A fresh pair of eyes may help an otherwise... blinded pair when it comes to matters of the heart."

Varric saw the tension in Fenris' posture and interfered. "It can't hurt to go over it again."

"I suppose not," Fenris conceded as he glanced around the room. He winced slightly from the magnitude of the destruction he'd caused.

"I have already discussed with your guard captain and this extremely helpful dwarf the events of the day in question," Zevran said. "They say you were preparing to leave and that Hawke's last known location was here, at her estate?"

Fenris nodded. "I left to retrieve some items from the mansion, and when I returned she was gone."

"No signs of a struggle?"

"No."

"Forced entry?"

"No."

Zevran walked around the living room as he spoke. "Most kidnappings occur right from the home. The target is usually comfortable, at ease, and not anticipating any danger." He moved towards the stairs, Jaeger eyeing him but also allowing him to pass, as if sensing he was there to help. The others followed as Zevran spoke the thoughts his mind was processing. "Which is her room?"

Fenris pointed towards her bedroom and Zevran pushed open the door, surveying the room for any clues. "She would have come straight here to pack, no?" Zevran opened her closet, and noticed several empty slots where clothes may have been. "She _did_ pack," he confirmed, looking around for a bag. "Clothes missing, and no sign of her bag." He moved over to her desk, and flipped through the pages of a journal that had been left open, the last entry perhaps from that day:

_Fenris and I are getting out of the city for a while. With Meredith gone and the templars running everything, it's a bit stuffy these days. Perhaps some fresh scenery will do us both some good and we can forget about what has happened here. Though it was necessary, it pained me to take the life of a friend. I need to be in a place that doesn't remind me of him for a while._

A question for later, Zevran thought, and put the journal entry out of his mind while he continued to search the room. "No weapons or armor..."

"She was wearing them," Fenris informed him.

Zevran nodded and continued thinking. "You were headed where?"

"The destination did not matter. We were to board the first vessel leaving Kirkwall," Fenris stated. "Hawke did not care where; she needed a break."

"Hmm," Zevran wondered. "Adventurous type then, interesting." He left the bedroom and descended the stairs, Jaeger following his movements with his head. "Your Champion must have a supply of gold around then, yes? Where would that be?"

"The vault is down that hall," Varric pointed out. "We haven't been able to get into it though."

Zevran smiled, sensing a challenge upon him. "Excellent." He moved down the hall with the others closely behind him, Jaeger at his heels, following with apparent interest. As Zevran knelt to examine the lock, Jaeger began barking, his stubby tail wagging in excitement. "What do you know?" Zevran asked the mabari.

Jaeger spun around in circles and continued barking, now seemingly at Zevran and then at the door. "I will surely find a way to open it my furry friend," he assured the mabari as he studied the lock again. "Do you have any wine?" Zevran asked as he began laying out his lock picking tools.

Varric handed Zevran a flask from his pocket. "A new way to open locks I don't know about?"

Zevran laughed. "Yes, I work better when intoxicated." He took a swig from the flask and handed it back to Varric, and began to work on the lock. "This may take...a moment..." he said as he fiddled with the mechanisms inside, pushing and twisting the picks. When he heard a snap he assumed he'd succeeded, until he pulled the pick out to find it broken. " _Braska!_ " he cursed as he retrieved another pick. "Perhaps...two moments," he tried again.

"Three of us have already tried that," Varric stated, watching in amusement. "You really think you can do it?"

"Locks are like women, my friend," Zevran responded as he continued working. "You have to poke them and prod them just right, the depth of your tool as important as the stroke in the hole." Seconds later the lock clicked and the door opened. "I am a master with my hands," he told them as he gathered his tools and descended the stairs into the vault.

Jaeger immediately began sniffing the area, obviously as distressed as Fenris to see the condition of the vault. It was clear there was some sort of struggle here; chests and crates were overturned, ash marks coated the walls from the explosion a fire spell, and bits of dried blood stained the concrete floor. Zevran studied the room, noticing the valuable items hadn't been touched. "Not a common thief then," he pointed out, stepping over some of the larger items.

"So an ambush in the vault then," Varric theorized. "But how would they know she'd come in here?"

Zevran shrugged. "Perhaps they were very patient. Or perhaps they overheard plans being made to leave Kirkwall and assumed as much as I did - that she would require coin."

Fenris had knelt down near the bloodstains and was running his finger along them. His heart sank as he imagined Hawke somewhere out there hurt, and he struggled to retain control of his grief. "There is very little blood, my friend," Zevran offered as he too knelt to examine the crimson stains. "Those markings on the walls? Unless your Hawke is enormously tall, they weren't meant to cause harm. She was needed alive."

Fenris nodded, accepting his words for the moment as Jaeger's barking caught their attention. The mabari was scratching at the opposite door, and both Zevran and Fenris stood to follow him. "Lead on my friend," Zevran said as he opened the door.

Jaeger kept his nose to the ground as he made his way down the stairs and through the rooms below the estate. A few times the dog sneezed from the dust on the floor, but thankfully a path was clear before them. "I never knew this place ran so deep," Varric commented as they descended yet another flight of stairs. "I wonder where it comes out?"

He didn't have to wait long for the answer - the final door Zevran pried open led them to Darktown. "You've got to be shitting me," Varric said as they exited right in front of the clinic. " _That's_ where this led to?"

"I never knew," Fenris said as he realized how foolish they had been. Hawke had told him the story about how they came into possession of the estate, but he never thought to ask her where the underground entrance had been located. Guilt crept up on him again. If he had only asked...

Varric kicked open the door to Anders' old place, and dust fell from the ceiling creating a hazy fog. The place was in complete disarray from neglect and from Anders' hasty retreat before he left to blow up the Chantry. Since the war with the mages and templars, Darktown had been completely cleaned out by the guard. Darktown was now commonly called "Ghost-town," as no one was allowed to dwell there. With half the population killed in the war, there was plenty of room for the former occupants to move into Lowtown. The new Knight-Commander Cullen saw to it that the area remained sealed off.

Jaeger argued with their slow pace once again, barking furiously at them from the stairs leading to the clinic. Zevran chuckled and apologized. "By all means," he said to Jaeger as the mabari continued his tracking through the abandoned section of Kirkwall. He paused at a ladder that descended into the sewers, and began whining at the men.

"You really want us to go down there?" Varric asked the hound as he recalled the many other miserable times they had traipsed through the sewers.

A barked reply was enough for Fenris to move first. As he began to descend the ladder, however, Jaeger ran in circles again, protesting the fact that he couldn't follow. Zevran looked at Varric and shrugged. "How heavy can he be?"

Varric laughed. "I'm not carrying that mutt down a ladder."

Another bark caused Fenris to pause. "He's tracked her this far," Fenris stated. "Lift him onto my shoulders and I will bring him down."

Zevran and Varric did their best to position the hound around Fenris' neck, and they slowly descended into the sewers. The others followed as Jaeger immediately set off tracking his mistress' scent. Their slow steps soon escalated into a full run, and Varric began to fall behind on his shorter legs. "He's going for the coast!" Varric shouted a few paces from the others as the sewers opened up ahead of them.

They exited the sewers and above them loomed a small cliff near the Waking Sea. " _Venhedis!_ " Fenris cursed, realizing the dead end. There was nothing but cliffs surrounding them except for the blue-green water that stretched endlessly to the horizon.

Zevran ignored Fenris' defeated tone and moved down towards the beach with Jaeger. He removed his boots and began walking in the soft sand, small waves caressing his feet and ankles. Varric and Fenris watched him pace up and down the area, wondering what he was up to. "A small boat," Zevran spoke aloud. "No ship could come into this narrow embankment." He looked out into the distance, wondering where a small vessel could have gone with a wounded or struggling passenger.

Jaeger began digging a few feet away from Zevran, sand flying through the air and stinging his face in the wind. "You better have good reason for this assault," Zevran said as he approached the mabari, curious what the hound could be searching for. Fenris and Varric had also come nearer, intrigued by the furious method in which Jaeger was tunneling. A few moments later the mabari stepped back, and turned to Zevran. He dropped what appeared to be a clump of sand at the elf's feet.

Jaeger wagged his tail waiting for approval as Zevran knelt down to examine what the mabari had found. He petted the hound and scratched him behind the ear before he brushed the sand away from the gift. It was a glittering necklace, made of delicate gold strands twisted together in a thick rope. Attached was a molded pendant that looked eerily like the head of a demon.

"That is not Hawke's," Fenris stated, disappointed yet again.

"No," Zevran said in a whisper. "I know who this belongs to, and I can not imagine how it could have ended up here." He stood, brushed the sand from his legs and retrieved his boots. "Come my friends, we must leave for Ferelden immediately. I don't suppose you know anyone with a ship, do you?"


	4. Chapter 3

**._.~`~._.Chapter Three._.~`~._.**

* * *

Zevran closed his eyes as the warmth of the sun caressed his skin. He folded his hands behind his head and relaxed for the first time in days, allowing the sea air and gentle rocking of the ship to sooth him into a brief nap. After traveling to Kirkwall and dealing with the mood swings of his elven companion over the last two days, sleeping on deck under the midday sky was exactly what he needed to rejuvenate his energy. Assured he was in no danger, sleep came quickly, as did his repeating dream of his lost love.

_Her hazel eyes looked up at him with such sadness that it was hard to pull away from her. Zevran lifted his hand to her golden brown hair, allowing the curls to wrap naturally around his fingers. A stray tear betrayed her false bravado and he leaned forward to kiss it from her cheek. Neria felt the weakness in her legs threatening to give out at any moment. After weeks of correspondence and confirmations, the time had come for Zevran to leave her; the Crows were coming for him._

_"I do not wish to see you cry," Zevran whispered to her, his lips lingering on the softness of her skin._

_"Then don't make me," came her reply. "Take me with you!"_

_He looked down at her and sighed, kissing her forehead and then the tip of her nose. "Were it that easy, my dear Warden, I would have done so months ago." He led her to a nearby bench and sat beside her. "We both knew this day would come."_

_Neria shook her head defiantly. "No. You always said this day would come. I decided it wasn't going to."_

_Zevran chuckled and smiled brightly at the smaller elf. "Ah, if only your will alone could make it so," he said tucking her hair behind her ear._

_She repositioned herself on the bench so she was laying down; her legs hanging over the side and her head resting in his lap. Heavy eyelids from a night of crying finally gave into their weight as he stroked her hair. He lifted his head back and closed his eyes as well, memorizing this moment to take with him in his travels._

_"Ma sa'lath, promise you'll return to me," Neria asked of him in the same haunting way he had asked her at the gates of Denerim, moments before she disappeared to slay the Archdemon._

_Zevran opened his eyes to the blinding sun and looked down towards his lap. Neria was no longer there. He stood in a panic, heart racing, as he turned his head and searched the immediate area for her. In the distance he could barely make out her long hair flowing down the dirt path as someone dragged her. He ran for her, calling her name, but she disappeared into the brightness of the horizon. He fell to his knees, the glimmer of gold in the sand beneath him catching his attention. His earring, the one he had given her as a promise of engagement, was sticking out from the ground. Zevran pulled with all of this strength but could not dislodge the piece of jewelry._

_A scream in the distance, her scream, followed by his own as he now shouted for her. "Neria!"_

He pulled his dagger out from beneath his head and swung it in front of him as he felt the weight of someone in his lap. Fast hands grabbed his wrists and stopped him inches from their chest. "I try to save you from a nightmare and you try to stab me in my heart?"

Zevran didn't wait for his eyes to adjust. That voice he'd recognize anywhere. "You seem offended my dear," he stated, "though I seem to recall you quite enjoy your clothes being removed by cold hard steel."

Isabela smiled as she adjusted herself to sit directly on his groin. "Now this is a position I haven't been in for a while. What fond memories it brings."

Zevran laughed at the pirates lack of boundaries. "Indeed, though I doubt it has been 'a while' as you say."

Isabela shrugged. "With you anyway," she smiled brightly. "We could change that you know...I happen to have the coziest room just below deck..."

"It is good to know your appetite has not changed Isabela, and still as blunt as a dwarven hammer," Zevran teased as he sat up, forcing Isabela to stand and release him. He gathered his weapons and stood as well. "Once upon a time I would jump at the chance, but alas, I am committed elsewhere."

Isabela eyed the former Crow. "You really fell for the Warden?"

Zevran nodded. "Indeed I did. She didn't seem interested in your offer last time; I have no doubt she wouldn't appreciate it this time either."

"Spoilsport," Isabela scoffed as she began to walk away. "We'll be in Amaranthine within the hour."

Zevran looked beyond the bow of the ship and saw his former home grow closer. It was the last place he had seen Neria, and returning brought a wave of sadness over him. When he came back to Amaranthine after fighting Nuncio and crew in Kirkwall, he ran the entire way to Vigil's Keep to see Neria again only to find out she was missing. This time he knew he would not see her. He still wasn't sure what was going on or who was behind the disappearances, but he was positive his Warden would not be waiting for him at the docks.

* * *

She opened her eyes and looked around the room as if it would've suddenly changed from the time she drifted to sleep the night before. The furnished bedroom certainly didn't feel like a prison, though that is what it had been for months. A bed that was not her own lay flush against the north wall. A bookshelf containing works in a language she couldn't read stood from floor to ceiling on her left. To the right was a desk with quill and parchment where she spent most of her time writing for lack of anything else to do. A dresser with clothing that had been provided for her was next to the desk. A large couch covered half of the south wall, which also contained the only door to the room.

Three times a day the door would open and food would be delivered to her. Three times she'd ask the servant where she was, why she was being held prisoner, and who was responsible for taking her. All three times the nervous elf would ignore her, sliding the tray on the floor and then closed and locked the door behind her. Several escape attempts were thwarted by three large men in the hall, never doing enough to cause harm but just enough to keep her within these four walls. The only other visitor was a young human woman who came to replace bathing water and the chamber pot. This one too remained silent in her duties.

Neria realized early on that her magic was useless here. Even the smallest spell wouldn't form in her hands, a crippling and frightening experience at first. She could feel the power within her; mana was accessible, but something was blocking her ability to use it.

She tried starving herself at first in protest, but hunger eventually overpowered her will. Weapons were crafted out of a small night table that were confiscated in her sleep. She had more than once trashed the place only to clean it out of boredom. And now as the familiar unlocking of the door for breakfast echoed in the spacious room, Neria didn't bother to move from her bed.

The servant entered quietly, only this time there was no tray of food. "Come, please," the elven servant beckoned to the Warden. "It is time."

Neria crossed her arms over her chest. "Time for what?"

The servant didn't answer. She opened the door wide and stepped out into the hall, the three guards stepping away as well. "Please," the servant repeated.

Neria left the bed cautiously, keeping her eyes on the men that stood outside the door. One of them gestured for her to walk left down the corridor towards what seemed to be a large room at the end. She did so slowly, studying her surroundings and searching for a way to escape should she need to. There were no other rooms in this hall, and as she approached the large room she realized there were no windows as well.

She stood in the entranceway for several seconds until she heard footsteps coming from across the room. Another woman entered from the opposite hall, her copper eyes taking in her surroundings much like Neria had done. She too had three guards behind her. A third woman entered from another hall, this one was held by her guards as she struggled within their grasp. She stopped fighting when she entered the large room, seeing the other two women in similar circumstances.

The nervous elf servant moved towards the center of the room and spoke, introducing the women to each other. "Neria Surana, the Hero of Ferelden," the servant announced as her guards gently nudged her into the room. "Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall," was stated as Hawke moved into the room on her own. "And Cassandra Pentaghast, the Hero of Orlais."

Cassandra's eyes widened as the other two were introduced, but then a fierce anger glossed over her face. She moved towards the servant and was once again restrained by the guards. "What is the meaning of this? Who dares to keep us against our will?"

"I dare," a response came from the balcony of the second floor above the group. "A moment, if you will, and I shall explain to you why you have been brought here."

* * *

**_Ma sa'lath: my one love_ **


	5. Chapter 4

**._.~`~._.Chapter Four._.~`~._.**

"Zevran Arainai!" The dockmaster announced as Zevran, Fenris, and Isabela stepped off the Siren's Call II in the port of Amaranthine. Several of the dockworkers and merchants hear the name called loudly and turn, cheering and offering greetings from where they stand. Zevran smiles brightly and bows, clearly enjoying the welcoming as it inflates his head just a little more.

"Friends of yours?" Fenris questions as Jaeger runs down the plank to catch up.

"More like...family, as it were," Zevran responds as he shakes the dockmasters hand. "It is good to see you again my friend," he says to the portly gentleman with graying hair and an eye patch. "Tell me Alarico, what news from the seas?"

The man's previously joyful expression turns somber in an instant. "I'm sorry Zev," he replied shaking his head. "There has been no word."

Zevran rested his hand on Alarico's shoulder. "No apologies necessary," Zevran said. "I believe we may be on to something." He stepped aside, letting Alarico size up his companion. "Allow me to introduce Fenris, my new partner in this venture. And you already know the great Isabela."

Fenris grunted his greeting and Isabela stepped forward. "Arg," she greeted Alarico, who repeated her greeting with a pleasant yet menacing grin. "I'll get our usual rooms at the Crown," she told Zevran. "I assume you're staying the night?"

Zevran nodded, then watched as Isabela sashayed her way through the busy port, receiving cat calls and whistles from the men. When she disappeared around the corner, he turned his attention to Fenris. "I know you are anxious to set out, but we must gather some supplies and a good nights rest before we do so, yes?"

Fenris frowned, not wishing to remain a minute longer than necessary, but he was in Zevran's territory now. Whatever the assassin had planned, Fenris was forced to go along. "One night," Fenris warned.

"Yes," Zevran said, distracted as he spotted someone in the crowd. He began walking towards a woman, Fenris following closely, until Zevran's shoulders sagged in disappointment and he stopped moving. "May I ask you something Fenris?" he said, turning to face the warrior.

"You may," Fenris responded, curious what the question was.

"In your city," Zevran began, "did you often...believe you see your Champion when she isn't really there?"

Fenris nodded, understanding exactly what Zevran was asking. In crowds, around corners, in the Hanged Man, or even when he woke up, there were several occasions where his mind played tricks on him and he believed Hawke was within sight. "It is the same for you?" he asked.

Zevran smiled, though his eyes gave away his sadness. "Mostly here, but occasionally elsewhere." He sighed but brushed it off quickly. "Come, let us settle in for the night and tell stories of our lovers before we begin our journey."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

"Do you have any idea what you've done in bringing me here?" Cassandra demanded, struggling against the guards that still held her.

Hawke rolled her eyes at the seeker. "I imagine that was the point."

Neria heard her fellow prisoners speaking to one another, but couldn't make out what they were actually saying. Her attention was focused on the woman descending the stairs from the balcony. "Morrigan!" she gasped, feeling one of the guards steady her when she stumbled forwards in shock.

Hawke frowned, looking first at Neria and then back toward the dark-haired woman. "Morrigan," she repeated. "I know that name. You are Flemeth's daughter, aren't you?"

"I apologize for not speaking with you individually," Morrigan began, ignoring the question, "but 'twas quite necessary for you to remain unaware of each other until now." She finished descending the stairs and waved her hand towards the guards restraining Cassandra. They released her and retreated to the entrance-way, the rest of the guards following in their wake. "Allow me to explain, please. When I am finished you are free to leave, if that is your wish."

"That's it?" Hawke asked. "You just brought us here to chat, then we can leave?"

Morrigan nodded. "I am afraid I cannot escort you all back to your homes, but your weapons will be returned to you. My hope is that you choose to remain."

Neria shook her head, stepping forward so she was facing Morrigan directly. "Why didn't you just come to me? There was no reason for... for any of this. I don't understand."

For the first time since she appeared, Morrigan's carefully blank look cracked, showing a glimpse of the guilt and sadness hiding beneath the facade. She ran a hand through her now short, jet black hair, sighing. "For what it is worth, Neria, I regret the circumstances of our reunion. Believe me when I tell you I had little choice."

Cassandra folded her arms across her chest. "I have need to leave here, and soon, with the Warden and the Champion. Speak, witch, and let us be on our way."

Hawke glared at Cassandra. "I am no more your hostage than hers," she told the seeker. "I will make my own decisions, thank you."

"I have been searching for you and the Warden for weeks," Cassandra informed her. "It is important we speak. Many lives are at stake!"

"I'd rather hear what Morrigan has to say," Neria said, turning her back on the woman. "Please, tell us what has happened."

Morrigan's expression darkened as she began. "I brought you all here because I need your help," she told the women. "And though your concern is of mages, templars and their growing war," she said to Cassandra, "I deal with a much greater threat. 'Tis a force nearly as old as time, which threatens to destroy the lives of all who dwell in Thedas."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

A soft nudge under his chin caused Fenris to stir and roll over in his sleep. A minute later the nudge came again on the back of his neck, followed by something cold and wet pressing against his skin. Fenris' voice vibrated in his throat as he delivered a threat to who he assumed was Isabela. "I will rip your heart out for waking me again," he warned. The pirate had made several attempts to snuggle with him while on the ship to Amaranthine, and his patience was at an end.

The soft whimpering of Jaeger broke through the haze of receding dreams, followed by a wet tongue licking his ear. Fenris rolled back over and pushed the mabari off the side of the bed, wiping drool off his neck. "The rules have not changed mutt," Fenris scolded him. "You remain off the bed."

Jaeger sat and barked once, wagging the stump that was his tail. He waited patiently for Fenris to get out of bed, splash water on his face, and put on his armor. Descending the stairs he noticed Isabela at the bar speaking with the innkeeper. Whether she too had just woken or been up all night Fenris wasn't certain, but he made no effort to find out as he walked passed her and out into the cold morning.

As the mabari ran to the nearest patch of grass he could find to relieve himself, Fenris wandered over to the Chantry board, curious to see what jobs people needed in this area. Donations of injury kits and various poultices were needed, as well as several seeking assistance with wild animals destroying crops and killing farm animals. "Neria took great pride in keeping that board clear," Zevran said as he approached behind Fenris. "Now it is filled with desperate pleas that will go unanswered."

"Were you in the city long?" Fenris asked, turning to face the assassin.

Zevran nodded. "When Vigil's Keep fell, the remaining Wardens came here until it could be rebuilt. Although we had assistance from the dwarves and the king, it still took a little over five years to complete." He moved towards the Chantry stairs and sat. "She refused to give up on the city then, and they have refused to give up on her now."

Fenris leaned against the wooden fence. "They still expect her return?"

Zevran looked up at Fenris. "As do I. You believe Hawke will return, do you not?"

Jaeger ran over to Fenris and nudged his leg. He reached down to offer the mabari a quick scratch behind the ear. "Hawke has not been missing long," Fenris answered.

Zevran chuckled. "No need to dance around the obvious," he responded. "You believe the Warden a lost cause? Consider I am on a foolish mission then?" When Fenris didn't answer, it was clear what his response would've been. "I see," Zevran stated.

Fenris shook his head. "We could both be on foolish missions," he finally admitted to himself. "Yet I will remain at your side until we know for certain."

Zevran jumped up from the stairs and extended his hand towards Fenris. "This I am happy to hear my friend."

As the two shook on their new agreement, Isabela exited the Inn and approached them. "Are you sure we can't have a little fun before we hit the road?" she asked the elves.

Fenris growled as Zevran laughed. Even Jaeger barked at Isabela as he moved between the two. "Your appetite never ceases to amaze, my beautiful pirate wench," Zevran said. "But there's only one woman I want in my bed at the moment. I thank you though for bringing us this far."

Isabela stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. "Is this your way of getting rid of me? By thanking me? I don't think so Zev. I want Hawke back as much as he does," she said nodding to Fenris.

"This is the end of the road for you I'm afraid," Zevran informed her. "I can not take you to Vigil's Keep; the Wardens would conscript you as their love goddess. I also have no doubt that if you were to attempt to see the king, his beautiful yet wicked wife would have you hung from the rafters."

Isabela pouted as Fenris interrupted the conversation. "I was not aware you had planned to take us to see the king," Fenris said to Zevran.

Zevran reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace they had found on the beach. "This pendant was given to a woman by King Alistair, and the chain is hers as well. She has been in hiding for some time, but if there is anyone in Ferelden that knows her whereabouts, it is he."

"Exactly how do you expect the king of Ferelden to know where one woman is in his kingdom?" Fenris asked.

Zevran smiled. "Because my new friend," Zevran stated, "Alistair is the father of her child."


	6. Chapter 5

_***Spoiler Alerts*: Ideas taken from The Silent Grove and Dawn of the Seeker, though still slightly AU and not necessarily in correct chronological order.** _

* * *

**._.~`~._.Chapter Five._.~`~._.**

_"And that's the last of it!" Hawke exclaimed as she tossed the pages into the fire. "No more stupid manifesto lingering around the estate."_

_Fenris watched for the last hour as Hawke systematically went through her home and gathered the many copies of Anders' writings he had left for her to read. She never did so, having no interest in his plight or the fight for mages freedom. It was a wonder to Fenris why she even kept Anders around, though he supposed it made some sense being the only healer they knew._

_"I am certain you may have missed a few," Fenris teased as they watched the flames dance before them in the fireplace._

_"I will have Jaeger hunt for them after a nice long bath," Hawke stated. She sat on the bed and Fenris followed, assisting her in removing her armor. He focused on the vast amount of buckles and ties without protest as Hawke continued her thought. "I can't believe it's finally over. Orsino dead. Meredith dead. Anders dead. What a day."_

_Hawke was forced to kill Anders for his destruction of the Chantry. His last words were filled with apologies and excuses for which Fenris wanted to kill him personally. But when Hawke spun around and slit the throat of the abomination, Fenris nearly smiled with pride until he realized how inappropriate that would've been given the circumstances. "Do you regret it?" Fenris asked out of curiosity._

_"Regret having to kill Anders?" Fenris nodded, and Hawke replied. "No. He deserved to die for what he did. I only wish I had done it sooner and could've prevented some of this."_

_Fenris thought upon the many times he too had wished he killed Anders. From his rantings about mages and their cause for freedom to the many times the abomination had dared to flirt with his Hawke. The very idea of plunging his fist into the mans chest excited him even now._

" _You have smirk face," her teasing voice interrupted his thoughts._

_Fenris raised an eyebrow at her. "Smirk face?" he repeated._

" _Mhmm," Hawke nodded, biting her lower lip. Fenris knew what that meant, just like he knew what she wanted when she lowered her head a bit and looked up at him, blinking through the auburn bangs that hung over her copper eyes._

" _No," Fenris said sternly as he began to pull her shirt up. She lifted her arms obediently as he removed the filthy garment. He undid the ties to her pants and she lay down on the bed so he could remove those as well. "Bath for you," he told her as he extended his hand to help her up._

_Hawke pouted as she let him pull her up to stand. "After?" she asked with hopeful eyes._

" _We'll see," he answered pushing her towards the washroom. She removed her remaining undergarments in front of him before strutting her naked body into the other room. Though he tried to resist, even covered in grime he wanted her, and it was only a matter of minutes before he followed._

Fenris opened his eyes and immediately regretted doing so. The dream quickly faded away until he could no longer feel her touch, and he immediately felt an ache inside his heart. Jaeger lifted his head at the sound of Fenris moving, but then lay back down to get a few more minutes sleep. Zevran was stretched out on his bedroll, arms and legs in different directions. Fenris briefly wondered how any woman didn't kick him out of bed for taking up so much space when he slept.

By the time Fenris went to the small lake to clean up and returned, Zevran was awake and preparing breakfast. "Sleep well?" the Antivan asked as he created something fowl smelling in a pot.

"We should have gone to straight to Denerim," Fenris argued for the third time since leaving Vigil's Keep.

Zevran stirred his concoction with his dagger and then brought the blade to his lips for a taste. Immediately he spit the food on the ground. " _Braska_!" he cursed, tipping the bowl on the ground spilling the stew. "Remind me next time to remove the poison from my blades before making breakfast, hmm?"

Fenris packed up his stuff as Jaeger barked at the brown liquid pooling in the mud. "Then we shall waste no more time," Fenris told Zevran.

"Are you always this excited?" Zevran asked as he followed Fenris' lead in preparing to leave.

"Are you talking to me or the dog?" Fenris questioned, clearly aggravated. Having dreamt of Hawke and then waking to the harsh reality of her disappearance certainly didn't help his mood, but he didn't think he was being that difficult.

Zevran took a moment to stretch and then continued gathering his things. "I figured a brief stop at the Keep would save us some time if they had heard anything," Zevran stated seriously. "I did not realize they heard that the Seekers were now also looking for your Champion. Remaining to dodge their questions was necessary." He finished packing and threw some dirt on the fire to put it out. "But now? We go."

Fenris grunted his acceptance and secured his sword to his back. Jaeger too seemed excited they were finally headed to Denerim for some real answers. As they left their makeshift camp behind, Fenris' mood softened a bit. "I will prepare lunch," he offered. "I do not wish to die from your cooking."

Zevran's laugh echoed around them. "A delicious offer, and wise indeed. Thank you my friend."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

_You are all familiar with the tales of the "Witch of the Wilds." Immortal, powerful, mother to many daughters. The name "Flemeth" has been around for centuries as told by the tales of traveling bards and minstrels. More powerful than a blood mage or any known abomination, and most important, not even truly human. One such tale claims her immortality comes from raising and then possessing her daughters; but this is not so. Her extended life goes beyond possession, and she is not the only Witch of legend._

_If you ask anyone in Antiva of the Witch of the Wilds, they will tell you a much different tale. Their witch is not of the Kocari Wilds, but of the Tellari swamps. Her name is Yavana, and she is the keeper of the Silent Grove; built after the fall of the Tevinter Imperium by those who knew dragons would need protection from the ignorance of mankind._

_The most powerful of these dragons were put to sleep by a blood mage cult long ago. They built the Hall of Sleepers within the Silent Grove, and used the blood of King Calenhad to send the great beasts into hibernation. Only Calenhad's descendants can awaken them from their slumber._

_Both Flemeth and Yavana have found their path to immortality from the dragons that dwell below. They can absorb the dragons life essence, thus extending their own. Of course doing this over time has diminished the very dragons they protect. Time is running out for both of them, and they seek access to all that remain._

_A known descendent of Calenhad was of course King Marric, who is either dead or missing, depending on what story you believe. That left Marric's son. The death of King Cailan at Ostagar was thought to be the end of the line, until the new king of Ferelden claimed his heritage. But he was to slay the Archdemon of the fifth blight, thus sacrificing himself in the process and ending the Calenhad bloodline yet again._

_Flemeth and Yavana worked together to ensure this would not happen. A ritual was created, to be performed on the eve of battle, before the fall of the Archdemon. Through this ritual a child was conceived; one who before birth could absorb the essence of the Archdemon and then upon birth would extend the Calenhad bloodline. A backup if you will, in case Alistair should fall by other means during the battle._

_'Tis that child Flemeth and Yavana search for now. His blood will awaken the remaining dragons within the Hall of Sleepers. They plan to release the dragons into the world so they may reproduce and strengthen their numbers once more._

_The Steel, Blessed, and Dragon Ages have all been witness to the destruction these dragons can cause. One or two have devastated entire cities. Old Gods inhabit the dragon that lead darkspawn to blights; five thus far, with two more rumored to be on the horizon. Ensuring the witches do not succeed with their plan means more than stopping their immortality. It means saving Thedas and all who live within._

"I have seen first hand the destruction these dragons can cause," Cassandra said quietly when Morrigan completed her tale. The Seeker could never forget the day several dragons attacked the ten year gathering in Orlais. It was the event that caused the Divine to declare her the Hero of Orlais for her bravery in destroying the dragons.

"Tis why you are here," Morrigan explained. "Are you not the last of the Nevarran dragon hunters?"

Cassandra nodded, the weight of her memories stilling all hostility that she had felt earlier. Though her original mission was to seek out and return the hero and the champion to Orlais, this new threat was more important than the conflict between the mages and the templars. If even one of these dragons were revived and set loose, the devastation could be tremendous.

"There are a great many tales of the Champion of Kirkwall facing several dragons herself," Morrigan continued, focusing her intense gaze on Hawke. "The High Dragon of the Bone Pit? As well as several drakes and dragonlings."

Hawke remembered all too clearly the battle at the Bone Pit. The mining camp was in ruins; the bodies of the men that had worked for her charred and smoldering from the dragons wrath. It was a sight and smell she would not forget any time soon, as well as how close they had come to losing Fenris during that battle.

"Neria," Morrigan now addressed her friend. "You have taken on my mother before, and though it did not kill her, you gave her great pause. I regret I must ask the same of you again should she decide to try and stop us."

"I've met your mother," Hawke interrupted. "Not someone I would wish to face in battle any time soon."

"Tis not my intention either," Morrigan replied. "One would be a fool to even consider such things. However she has been searching for me for quite some time, I've no doubt she is expecting the very thing I intend on doing."

"Which is?" Neria asked apprehensively.

Morrigan explained her plan to the women. "We enter the Silent Grove and slay the dragons while they still sleep. Flemeth and Yavana will be weakened by this, and it is then that they may finally be killed."

"Why have Flemeth and Yavana worked together all this time?" Cassandra asked. "Wouldn't one wish to take out the other for more power?"

"Eventually I imagine 'twould be so," Morrigan replied. "Though they know each other as well as I know them. Yavana is Flemeth's daughter you see; my sister."

"Okay...not to be the naysayer of our newly formed band of awesome women," Hawke began, "but how do we know you're not having us knock out your family so you can claim the dragons for your own immortality?"

"A fair question," Morrigan replied as she turned to the guard and nodded, and he disappeared down the hall. "Were I in your shoes, I would assume the same." She stood and moved towards the position left vacant by the guard. She then extended her hand into the darkness of the hallway. "Come," she said softly. "There are some people here to meet you."

A child about nine years of age appeared beside Morrigan, placing his small hand within hers. His red hair accented intense yellow eyes that glossed over the women at the table. Neria tried to stifle her surprise at seeing the boy; his nose and chin clearly the same as his father. "Allow me to introduce to you my son, Aurelian, named after my father. He is the very reason you are here; 'tis his blood my family seeks."


	7. Chapter 6

**._.~`~._.Chapter Six._.~`~._.**

Now that they had finally set their feet into Denerim, Fenris was feeling a bit more anxious. Each step they took through the alleys was one minute closer to finding Hawke. After his dream last night and the lack of food this morning, the tension within him was building. Seeing the castle begin to take shape in the distance did little to sooth him, but it did keep him from ripping out the hearts of the strangers who stared at him.

Zevran and Jaeger both took note of Fenris' mood and left him alone to brood. They moved with caution through the darker parts of Denerim, though no one dared to approach them when they saw Fenris. Zevran couldn't help himself from recalling the many times he had gone through these alleys with Neria, including the day they had won his temporary freedom from the Crows. A city full of memories, it seemed Zevran was becoming just as broody as Fenris. Though he had walked these streets several times since, it was hard not to remember the battle with the Archdemon, and even harder not to notice the stains that never quite disappeared on some of the buildings.

It took about a half hour travel, but darker streets turned into brighter ones, and the castle now loomed over them. The paths they walked were lined with colorful flowers and bright green bushes until they finally came to the front of the grand structure. Zevran motioned for Fenris to wait as they heard raised voices coming from their intended destination.

"You have to let me in!" A man stood tall with his hand on his hips, arguing with the guard blocking his path. "You have denied me every day for nearly a week, you just can't do this!"

The guard continued to stand his ground. "I don't have to do nothin', and I _can_ do this. Now go away _apostate_. The king will not see you."

"I am no apostate," the man in robes explained for what seemed like the hundredth time, judging by the exasperation in his voice. "Here," he said digging into his pockets. "I have documentation from the first enchanter and the knight-commander from the White Spire circle of Orlais."

"Congratulations," the guard said rolling his eyes, "and lucky me, an Orlesian." The man in plate continued to stand in front of the double wooden doors to the castle. "You're still not gettin' in."

Zevran and Fenris entered the courtyard when the altercation quieted down, and after quickly relieving himself Jaeger followed behind. They witnessed the man in dark green robes and shoulder length brown hair pacing back and forth along the wall of the castle. His eyes lifted to meet the two elves and he paused, but then he looked away, pacing again without saying a word.

"Oy great, more visitors," the guard sighed as he leaned against the doors.

Zevran walked up to him casually, Fenris right behind him. "My name is Zevran Arainai," he said proudly.

The guard pretended to yawn and raised his hand to begin picking at his nails. "Congratulations to you too. You ain't gettin' in neither."

Fenris growled behind Zevran, but Zevran stepped forward and tried to get the guard to be reasonable. "If you tell your king my name and that I am here, I assure you he would wish to see me." The mage listened in on the interaction but continued his steps while staring at the ground.

"Is everyone suddenly deaf in Ferelden?" the guard said loudly. "No one is seeing the king today! Now be gone, all of you, before I call for backup and have you run off."

Fenris spoke low enough that only Zevran with his elven ears could hear him. "Do you know the layout of this castle?" he asked.

"Better than the curves of my woman," Zevran replied.

"Good," Fenris said before he lunged past Zevran towards the guard. The man began to reach for his weapon but Fenris' speed prevailed as he landed a hard punch to the man's jaw. The guard fell to his knees, and Fenris followed up with a blow to the head, causing the man to hit the ground unconscious. "Let us move on," Fenris stated opening the front door to the castle, Jaeger at his side.

Zevran chuckled as he followed Fenris into the front hall of the castle. They turned when the mage began calling out to them. "Wait!" he yelled as he ran towards the entrance. "What about me?"

"What about you?" Zevran asked curiously.

"May I accompany you? I have been trying to see the king every day for a week!"

Zevran shrugged. "You have legs, no?" The assassin turned his back on the mage and began to maneuver the halls; Fenris, Jaeger, and their new companion following close behind.

A few guards inside the castle knew Zevran from previous visits, so they bowed to him as the trio passed. Several stopped behind them to stare at Fenris, the same as the townsfolk had done outside. This time though Zevran had finally had enough, and decided to tease them.

"He is ridiculously handsome, is he not?" Zevran asked one who stared too long. The guard's face immediately flushed as they hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Fenris cursed under his breath. "Must you engage them?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"Anything to delay suspicion my friend," Zevran replied as he led them through corridors and up stairs. He took a guess that the king would be in his study, and he was correct.

They entered the room and Alistair looked up from his desk with wide eyes. "Zevran?" Given the speed in which they entered, Alistair's eyes expressed a dash of hopefulness. They hadn't seen each other in months; the last time Zevran came through was shortly after Neria had gone missing. Alistair had little to offer the assassin as far as ideas or leads, but he had given his friend plenty of coin to finance his search. Neria meant a great deal to him as well, and anything Alistair could do to help Zevran, he would. "You have news?"

Before Zevran could open his mouth to reply, the mage stepped forward. "King Alistair," he bowed and got down on one knee. "My name is Regalyan D'Marcall. I have come from the circle tower in Orlais and require your assistance."

Alistair looked at Zevran who had nothing to offer. "Don't look at me my friend; he followed us in from the front door. I should warn you we hit one of your guards to get in here; no doubt he's waking up grumpy right about now."

Alistair ran a hand through his perfectly cut hair, careful to avoid the signature strands that stood up in front. He pushed back his chair and stood, motioning for Regalyan to do the same. "Uhm…Regalyan is it? If you'll kindly wait outside, I will see that my assistant takes down your request for aid…"

Regalyan cut him off. "No!" he exclaimed before remembering where he was. "I mean, your majesty…please, no. Don't make me wait any longer…"

"You test my patience _mage_ ," Fenris now interrupted, hand reaching for his sword.

"Fenris?" Alistair blinked, realizing for the first time the elf he met in Kirkwall was standing in the room.

But his words weren't acknowledged. The warrior remained focused on the mage, and now Zevran reached for his blades as well. Regalyan in turn brought his staff in front of him, sensing the growing threat. When he did so, Jaeger stretched forward and bared his teeth, releasing a low growl that seemed to match Fenris' in volume as well as pitch.

Alistair looked at all three of the men in his study about to battle and he had no idea why. "Uhm…hello? King here…please don't make me go all _kingly_ ; I haven't even had breakfast yet!"

Fenris was the first to back down only out of respect for the king, releasing the hilt of his sword though he kept a constant gaze on the mage. Zevran and Jaeger remained ready for battle until Regalyan secured his staff to his back. "I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he said as he did so. "It has just taken me so long to get here."

"Five minutes," Alistair told Regalyan. "My friends here have news of a very personal matter, but if you'll give me five minutes I shall hear you out."

Regalyan nodded, thanking the king and apologizing again to Zevran and Fenris before exiting the study.

"I have no doubt he'll break the door down at exactly five minutes," Alistair stated. "As will the guard you knocked out and probably the old ball and chain." He settled back into the seat behind his desk. "I assume it isn't good news since Neria isn't with you," Alistair said. "Do I even want to know why you are both here then? Together? How did _that_ happen?"

"Hawke is missing," Fenris replied, nearly cutting him off. The tension within him was near boiling point with the amount of delay. At the mention of Hawke's name, Jaeger hung his head and let out a small whimper. Without thinking Fenris reached down and scratched the mabari behind the ear.

"What?" Alistair didn't believe what he was hearing. He looked towards Zevran and saw confirmation in his eyes. "First Neria and now Hawke?"

Zevran stepped closer to Alistair. "Leliana sent word for me a few weeks ago. Along with the Champion and our Warden, the Seeker that was looking into their disappearances has also gone missing."

" _Three_ women?" Alistair looked towards Fenris. His encounter with the warrior was brief, but he knew when they met that there was a strong connection between him and the Champion. The conflicting emotions of pain and despair reflected in his once proud eyes for the woman who saved Kirkwall on more than one occasion. Alistair remembered a time when he felt like that for someone.

"We found this on the beach just outside Kirkwall," Zevran interrupted the king's thoughts as he spoke and retrieved the necklace from his pocket. He placed the necklace and pendant on the desk in front of Alistair and stood back, waiting for the man to confirm his suspicions.

"Maker's breath," Alistair whispered, hand hovering near the item as if afraid to touch it. He knew whom it belonged to as much as Zevran did. Gently he ran his fingers over the surface of the charm before he lifted it for a closer look. There was no doubt it was _hers_ ; Alistair had placed it around her neck the last night that they had spent together.

"Where is she," Fenris demanded of Alistair, patience at an end.

Before Alistair could respond, the door to his study swung open. Regalyan was once again entering the room, only this time he was being followed by guards. The one that Fenris attacked was behind the others pointing towards the elf. "That one! He's the one that hit me!"

Jaeger began to growl at the approaching men as Alistair stood. "Stand down men," Alistair told them.

"But your majesty!" the guard exclaimed. "He _hit_ me!"

"Apparently you deserved it," Alistair told him. "On whose authority did you prohibit these men from seeing me?"

The guard continued to rub his jaw. "The Queen sir, she insisted…"

Alistair sighed. "Last I checked Ferelden was led by her _king_. We will discuss this later. Please, leave us."

The guards bowed and backed out of the room quietly. Regalyan began to apologize again. "They wanted to arrest me! I didn't mean to barge in before being called…"

Alistair waved his hand. "It's alright. I have a personal matter to attend to, but I did promise you time."

The mage apparently didn't care that there was an audience in the room. "I'm trying to find someone," he began speaking quickly. "I received several letters from her and the last one I received was from when she stayed here in the castle. But that was months ago and I haven't heard from her since! No one at the Chantry will tell me what's going on!"

Alistair almost laughed at the man's excitement, but refrained from doing so given the passionate sorrowed tone in his voice. "Okay slow down. You say your friend stayed here? What is her name?"

Regalyan took a deep breath and released it to calm himself. "Cassandra. Cassandra Pentaghast. She was with the…"

"The Seekers," Zevran finished the mage's sentence for him.

"How did you know?" Regalyan questioned, eyes wide as they looked towards Zevran.

Zevran took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Alistair. "Have a seat my new friend," he said to Regalyan. "We are all here for the same reason."

Alistair slumped back down in his chair as well. His hand still clutched the pendant and he opened his fist to look upon it once more. "I don't know where she is," he said to Fenris in a soft voice, answering the question he had asked before the interruption. "But I know how we can find her."

"We?" Zevran raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, glancing towards Fenris. Even Jaeger cocked his head as he looked up at the king.

Alistair nodded. "Yes," he answered without taking his eyes off the necklace. "I will be going with you."


	8. Chapter 7

**._.~`~._.Chapter Seven._.~`~._.**

_"Let me get this straight," Zevran began as he braided her hair. "Morrigan wishes for you to kill Flemeth?_ The _Flemeth?"_

_Neria grinned at the hint of excitement in his voice. "It's an honest request Zev," she told him, leaning her head back to look at him. "Do you want to come?"_

_He bent his head down to kiss her nose before lifting it back into position so he could continue his work. "I would not miss it for all the wine in Antiva my dear," he informed her. "But do you think it is wise to take her on before this Archdemon you are after? I imagine the Wardens would be quite cross with you for dying before the epic battle." He paused, thankful her back was to him so she couldn't see the concern in his eyes. "I would be as well."_

_Neria ran her fingers across his leg that was wrapped around her. "Do you have so little faith in me?" she whispered._

_"Ma sa'lath, I have nothing but faith in you," Zevran insisted. "But I can not help but wonder if Morrigan intends to take her mother's place now."_

_Neria turned her head over her shoulder. "Take her place? What do you mean?"_

_"As the new Witch of the Wilds," he stated. "That is her title, no? And when one slays the Queen, it is assumed the daughter takes the throne, yes?"_

_Neria laughed. "You're being paranoid," she said. "Flemeth has no throne, and her title is just a creation of scared village folk."_

_"That is not entirely true. Recall the tale of the Antivan Witch of the Wilds," Zevran reminded her of the story he told her not long ago. "These women are truly dangerous and I suspect not as easy to kill as Morrigan claims."_

_Neria pulled away from his braiding and changed position to face him. "Lucky me I have a strong handsome assassin to protect me then," she stated before pressing her lips to his._

A soft tapping distracted Neria out of her memory and she looked towards the door. Morrigan entered a moment later. "Tis most curious," she stated as she walked towards the bed where Neria was sitting. "I've allowed you all the freedom to leave, and yet you all remain."

Neria made room for her to sit on the bed beside her. "You asked that we think about it for a day," Neria reminded her. "After everything you told us, did you think we'd run? You thought _I'd_ run?"

Morrigan avoided her gaze, much like she always did when she was discussing her own vulnerability. She sat on the bed and looked at her hands that were in her lap. "I...did not know what to expect," she admitted.

Neria sighed at her old friend. "You went about it the wrong way Morrigan," she told her. "I don't know about the others, but you and I were friends once; near sisters as I recall. All you had to do was ask; we all would've helped you without hesitation."

Morrigan stood and walked a few paces away from her. "I was not raised in that manner, much as you know. To admit a vulnerability, a weakness?" She turned to look at Neria. "That alone would have put him in danger and I will _not_ allow that."

"He's already in danger," Neria said softly. "Alistair should..."

"No!" Morrigan cut her off abruptly. "I will not listen to another word if it involves that...that fool."

Neria shook her head. Of all the time that had gone by, her old friend was still so stubborn. "Alright fine," she resigned to her threat. "I will help you Morrigan, I'm sure you knew that already. But I have to get word to Zevran...it's been months."

Morrigan considered her request. "So, you're still with the assassin? I shall...consider it," she told Neria as she walked towards the door.

"Anything you could do to get word to him I would appreciate," Neria told her.

Morrigan glanced over her shoulder and paused. "You have my thanks," she said quietly before exiting.

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

_"What does that even mean?" Hawke asked Fenris as they descended the mountain after releasing Flemeth. "'I am a fly in the ointment.' Is she saying she's got sticky feet?"_

_"Hmm," Fenris pondered. "I would not know."_

_"At least she got the 'old old woman' part correct," Hawke stated. "And that bit about her daughter? I must admit, I am curious to know what it's like to have that one for a mother."_

_Fenris growled. "She's still a witch. And not to be trusted."_

_"You said she was different," Hawke reminded him. "'Not a mage, nor spirit, or abomination' I believe were your words. And if she's also not a witch, then what is she?"_

_"A good question," Fenris stated._

_Hawke studied Fenris for a moment. "Are you still dwelling on what she said to you? How your chains are broken, but you still aren't free?"_

_"This is no different than what I have already told you Hawke," Fenris said. "Those like her see things, know things. It will do you good to avoid doing favors for those such as her in the future."_

_"I had little choice when we met," Hawke confided in him as they entered the cave. "Without her assistance, I never would've been able to get to Kirkwall." She stepped over a few of the corpses that they had killed on the way up. "Besides, everything turned out alright. My family got out of Ferelden safely, and now my debt to Flemeth is paid."_

_Fenris stopped to look at her. "Be careful Hawke," he warned her. "I am not convinced you have seen the last of her."_

" _I hope you're wrong," Hawke replied. "The last thing I need is visions of dragons dancing in my head."_

_He released a small laugh under his breath. "You are a strange person Hawke," he told her._

_She smiled as she moved ahead of him. "Oh Fenris, you have no idea. Wait until you_ really _get to know me."_

Hawke looked up from the desk as Morrigan entered the room. "A visitor!" Hawke exclaimed with a smile. "Please, make yourself at home. I'd offer you some refreshments, but it seems my captor hasn't provided me with any."

Morrigan remained close to the door, a smile daring to touch her lips. "You are a witty one, aren't you?" she replied folding her arms across her chest. "Tell me then; do you plan on leaving at first light? Perhaps seek revenge for what I have done?"

Hawke leaned back in the chair and cocked her head to the side. "I haven't decided yet," she replied honestly. "But I have to give you credit; kidnapping me and then asking for a favor? Pretty brazen. At least your mother gave me a choice."

"Ah yes, my mother." Morrigan walked a little further into the room. "She planned her escape from Ferelden well, and found the perfect opportunity to trick you into helping her."

"She could've convinced anyone," Hawke insisted. "There were a lot of people fleeing from the Blight. I was just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time."

Morrigan's eyebrow raised at the statement. "Flemeth chose you," she told Hawke. "No doubt for the very same reason I chose you. Tis clear you are capable of handling yourself; my mother saw this, you see. As did I."

Hawke moved forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the desk. "You're not afraid I hold some loyalty to Flemeth for saving my family?"

Morrigan laughed. "My mother, gaining loyalty from anyone? Tis hardly a concern of mine." Her expression reflected a bit of sadness before she continued. "My only fear is for Aurelian, you see. If you would willingly hand him over to be tortured and killed, then it is I that has misjudged you, and my son will pay that price."

Hawke sighed. "You're very melodramatic, you know that? You must get that from your mother." She stood and walked around the desk, and then extended her hand towards Morrigan. "I will help you protect your son," Hawke assured her.

Morrigan warily took the woman's hand and shook it, clearly uncomfortable at the gesture, and withdrew quickly.

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

_"Your new apprentice certainly seems eager," Regalyan said to her when they returned to his room after dinner._

_Cassandra nodded. "Our mission is personal for her," she told him. "And after the night of stories and tales we just heard, I can understand why."_

_"Some of it seems embellished I admit," he said helping her out of her armor._

_"Some?" Cassandra nearly laughed; a rare occurrence. "If we are to find the Hero of Ferelden, I need facts from Leliana. Not wild claims about meeting the Witch of the Wilds."_

_"Is it so hard to believe?" Regalyan asked. "You and I alone have seen myths and legends reveal themselves to be true. You can not doubt all the time."_

_"I doubt everything," Cassandra replied as she narrowed his eyes at him. "That is my job; my duty."_

_Regalyan sighed. As much as he loved her, she was always so serious when it came to being a Seeker. "Not everything is what it appears to be on the surface," Regalyan reminded her. "Did not your own mentor Byron tell you that?"_

_Cassandra turned away from him, resisting the tears that always threatened at his name. "Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes. Though it had been years since Byron's passing, the pain was still very much on the surface._

_Regalyan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his head on her shoulder and breathed in the scent of her. "It's alright to doubt," he told her. "But you must also open up your heart to believe the unbelievable." He smiled, though she couldn't see it. "We are the perfect example of that."_

_The tension in her body left under his touch. "I know," she admitted, though she hated doing so. To believe that this Flemeth could really exist? Or to believe she would ever fall in love with a mage? Of course he was right; he always was. "I'm sorry I have to leave," she said changing the subject. "I shouldn't be in Denerim for too long."_

_Regalyan turned her around to look at her, still holding her close. His large green eyes showed her exactly what his intentions were for the rest of the evening. "Seek your truth of wild legends and missing Wardens in the morning," he told her. "Tonight belongs to us."_

Cassandra turned briefly from her gaze into the fire when Morrigan entered. She eyed the witch as she settled down on the couch near the bedroom door, then returned to watch the flames dance in the fireplace. "You have reminded me of a time I wish to have forgotten," Cassandra advised her. "How did you come to know of my past?"

Morrigan nearly laughed at the memory. "Twas one of many tales a bard I traveled with would prattle on about at night. The great Hero of Orlais, slayer of dragons."

"Leliana," Cassandra stated and Morrigan nodded her head in confirmation. "I have heard a lot about you and Flemeth from her."

Morrigan sighed. "Tis most curious. I'm certain she did not like me much, though I care little."

Cassandra moved to face her. "She was quite fond of you in fact. Said your strength was inspiring and your bravery unwavering. She did not however mention you had a child."

"There are few who are aware," Morrigan responded. "I have given my word that my son would not be used for anything politically motivated; thus his existence has remained a secret, save for those involved in his conception."

Realization shown through Cassandra's expression. "Your son is the heir to the throne of Ferelden," she stated.

"No," Morrigan replied. "Once this business with my mother is concluded, my son and I will once again leave Ferelden, never to return. Think of me as you may, but I do not go back on my word. Tis a promise I intend to keep."

"As well as letting us walk out of here if we choose to?" Cassandra asked.

"You may go," Morrigan told her as she stood. "The others have chosen to remain. Twas not your original mission to find them? Surely you would not wish to return to your Divine empty handed."

Cassandra laughed at the gall of this woman. "Leliana was right; you are indeed brave for kidnapping all of us."

"Do not confuse bravery for desperation," Morrigan advised her as she reached for the door. "Allow me to say one more thing: I am aware of the impending war you are trying to prevent. Let me remind you that should my mother and sister succeed, there will be no mages nor templars to concern yourself with."

Morrigan then exited the room, and left the door wide open.


	9. Chapter 8

._.~`~._.Chapter Eight._.~`~._.

_The room was pitch black, the candle above the bed long burned to its wicks end. It had surprised Morrigan when Alistair asked for her to ignite it again. She had assumed it would be easier for him to complete the task if he was not forced to look upon her. The flame had highlighted flecks of green and brown within his hazel eyes that she had never noticed before. Of course she had never been this close to him either._

_He hadn't realized how pale she really was until he brought his hand to her face; his bronze tone standing out among the ivory backdrop. In the back of his mind he'd always imagined turning to stone had he touched her, yet he found he enjoyed the softness of her skin. She had offered every comfort to make this as easy as possible for him, and he found it difficult to admit that she was right; he didn't hate it quite as much as he believed he would._

_As they lay together in bed, hearts still racing and breathing not quite under control, Alistair couldn't help but wonder if she knew she was his first. She was obviously experienced in her actions and confident; had he been able to fool her? He had relinquished control from the very beginning, but he found it very easy to match her pace with his own thrusts. Halfway through he was even courageous enough to re-position her beneath him. The Morrigan he knew would have no problem pointing out his flaws, and yet for the last hour only gasps, moans and content sighs escaped her lips._

_Morrigan knew; she had been with enough inexperienced men that she had known for months. But the moment he touched her, his nervous fingers removing the ties in her hair, she no longer wanted to hurt him with the wit of her tongue. She felt the need to give this man the memorable experience a first time should be. For someone such as him, it would need to be gentle, passionate, and meaningful. Perhaps it was part of the ritual itself that made her feel this way, for she had no other explanation why she would suddenly care._

_She was the first to rise that morning, surprised that she allowed herself to remain cocooned within his arms for so long. She wasn't even aware she had woken him until he spoke while she was dressing. "Did...did it work?"_

_Morrigan turned to face him. "I believe we were successful."_

_Alistair sat up, adjusting the sheet so it covered his lap. "So that's it then. You're leaving."_

_She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge. "After the battle, yes." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There is also one more thing I must ask of you."_

_His brow raised as he stared at her. "Uhm, I'm not certain what more I can give you," Alistair said honestly._

_Morrigan reached for the green velvet pouch on the nightstand and handed it to him. "I wish to give you something," she told him. "'Tis a ring. Now before you get any foolish notions let me explain."_

_He opened the small bag and held it over his hand, the slightly heavy object falling into his palm. The twisted loop of rosewood seemed to shift and change before his eyes. It was hard to be certain, but Alistair thought he could see each of the animals Morrigan changed into along its smooth surface. There was also an emotion that came with holding the ring; a small tinge of regret and sorrow._

_"Flemeth once gave me the ring because it allowed her to find me no matter where I went," Morrigan explained. "I disabled its power once we left the Wilds, and have since changed it. 'Tis not out of sentimentality that I give you this ring you understand. I wish you to have it as a means for me to find you, should I have need in the future."_

_"You? Sentimental?" Alistair laughed teasingly. "Perish the thought!" Morrigan shot him a look that nearly burned right through him, but then he noticed the corner of her mouth turn slightly upward in a smile. He hesitated before asking her, "does it do anything else?"_

_"Flemeth used to say that 'twas a link between us, one that I presumed worked both ways. I never tested it, but I doubt she would've lied over such a thing."_

_Alistair moved the ring over each of his fingers. "In regards to your safety? No, I suppose she wouldn't." He found that the ring fit his middle finger perfectly, though he quickly removed it. "So I could find you with this? If need be?"_

_Morrigan felt her frustration rising. "I suppose, were you a mage. 'Tis no matter of importance though, since you have already agreed upon not following me," she reminded him._

_"You're right," he said solemnly as he dropped the ring back in its pouch. "Though I do feel better knowing that if you do need me you can find me."_

_"I wouldn't count on it Alistair," Morrigan advised him. "Our goodbye is now; after the battle I am gone, regardless of its outcome. 'Twould be best if you remember that."_

_Alistair sighed. "Then before you go, please. Take this." He removed his necklace and handed it to her. "Give this to the child? When you feel the time is right? I'd like him, or her, to have something of mine...you know, just because."_

_Morrigan accepted the necklace, her expression softening slightly. "Of course." She stood and walked to the door, opening it slowly. She allowed herself one last glance at him over her shoulder. "I will keep my promise to you," she reiterated. "I expect you to do the same."_

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

Alistair reached into his desk and retrieved the worn green velvet bag. He opened it and dropped the ring in his hand, caressing the edges before giving it to Regalyan. "She said we were linked through it, and that a mage could use it to find her as she can find me."

Regalyan studied the ring carefully before pressing it between his palms. He closed his eyes and Alistair could feel the magic in the air. There was also a sudden sense of fear, though it was very faint. "We can use this," Regalyan replied after a few minutes. "Once you put it on you should have a sense of where to go."

"What about her?" Alistair asked. "Won't she know we're getting closer?"

Regalyan nodded, handing him back the ring. "I can try to work on diminishing that effect, but I'll need more time. This mage who gave you this ring, she is the one who has Cassandra?"

Alistair shrugged. "That's the rumor. I just found out about it myself. Those two know more than I," he said nodding towards Fenris and Zevran. The two elves seemed to be having some silent argument based on their expressions and hand gestures, though Alistair couldn't hear them.

"You will take me with you?" Regalyan asked of the king.

Alistair studied the man's worried expression. It was clear to him by the fear in his voice and the concern in his eyes that the mage standing in front of him cared just as much for his Seeker as the elves did the Hero and the Champion. "Of course," he replied to Regalyan. "If you help me think of a good excuse to tell the Queen why I'm leaving."

The elves in the corner of the room were also discussing the addition of Alistair to their party. Jaeger was nestled between them looking upwards, his head moving back and forth at each one when they spoke. "He will slow us down," Fenris said angrily. "We have wasted enough time."

"He has as much reason to go as we do I assure you," Zevran tried to explain. "Plus it would not hurt to have a king watching our backs."

Fenris disagreed. "It _would_ hurt should something happen to him. And you expect they will just let him walk out of here without an army behind him? If this witch is as good as you say, we must strike quickly."

"I am all for striking quickly my friend," Zevran stated. "But I imagine we are up against much more than Morrigan. She cannot be holding these three very strong women on her own. Surely she has assistance, and so should we."

Fenris looked over Zevran's shoulder at Alistair. "Can he even lift a sword?"

"The man did help take down an Archdemon," Zevran reminded Fenris, defending his friend.

"Over a decade ago," Fenris replied, clearly not convinced of the man's skill.

Zevran turned to observe Alistair just as he dropped Morrigan's ring. The assassin sighed as he turned back to Fenris. "Perhaps we should take a servant to carry his sword for him..."

The sound of footsteps down the hall caused all four men and Jaeger to regroup. The echoing of the guards boots upon the marble floor came to a halt when the door swung open. A woman dressed in the finest Orlesian silks entered with several guardsmen behind her. Her emerald green dress accented her mahogany hair that was curled and cascaded down across her shoulders. "I demand these three men be arrested and thrown in the dungeon immediately!" she said loudly to no one in particular.

"That's really not necessary," Alistair stated, already dreading the fight that was going to happen with his wife.

"These men attacked a guard, trespassed through the castle, and you say arresting them is not necessary?" Her temper flared, cheeks becoming as red as the rouge upon her lips. "And that one," she pointed towards Zevran. "I warned him the last time..."

"A pleasure to see you again my Queen," Zevran said as he bowed in an exaggerated manner.

"You are dismissed," Alistair said to the guards behind her, rubbing his temple with his hand. They hesitated to leave, being torn between the orders of the King and Queen, but retreated when Alistair crossed his arms over his chest. "My apologies," he then said to Fenris and Regalyan. "Allow me to introduce to you my lovely wife, Queen Habren Theirin, daughter of Arl Leonas Bryland of South Reach."

"I want a moment alone with my husband," Habren said angrily, turning to the others. "If you won't consent to a long stay in the dungeons, the least you can do is _leave_."

"Uhm, if you wouldn't mind, there's a room next door you can wait in," Alistair said timidly as his wife glared at him. Fenris and Zevran glanced at each other, then as one turned and walked towards the exit opposite the doors the guards had left from. Regalyan glanced at Alistair, who shrugged, and then he followed them out.

The room, a small study, seemed ridiculously crowded with the three of them. Unfortunately, there was only one door - the one they'd just came through. Alistair and the Queen's voices were still audible, though no one could quite make out what was being said. "Hopefully he can get rid of her quickly," Regalyan said, then flinched involuntarily as they all heard the sound of breaking glass. "I assume we can leave as soon as they're done?"

" _We?_ " Fenris echoed.

"If you want to track Morrigan without her knowing, then yes," Regalyan replied. "I _will_ be going with you."

Fenris did not hide his disgust for yet another addition to their search party. "And now the mage is coming with us?" he asked Zevran.

Regalyan folded his arms across his chest. "'The mage' has a name you know."

Zevran shrugged as he leaned against the wall to eavesdrop on the argument in the next room. "It could be worse my friend," he said to Fenris. "We could always ask the Queen to go, no?"

Fenris audibly growled. "No."


	10. Chapter 9

_***Spoiler Alert*: Brief mention of Witch Hunt content.** _

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**._.~`~._.Chapter Nine._.~`~._.**

"Eluvians were crafted by the elves of Arlathan, originally for communication between their cities. In time they discovered it could be much more; a portal, if you will, to move from one city to another without the burdens of travel. The magic needed to activate these doorways was lost for a time. Even the great magisters of Tevinter were unable to use the Eluvian to its fullest potential.

"When last I saw Neria, I had located and activated one of these portals. At the time I told her it was a gateway to another place, beyond this world and beyond the Fade. In truth, twas this very world, though a place no one has visited for centuries. What I learned there I had brought back with me, and offered to Neria as a gift."

"I wasn't sure what to make of it at first," Neria explained, continuing Morrigan's story. "The writing was from the ancient times of my people. But there were maps as well of Thedas and beyond the unexplored territories. Places many explorers had ventured to visit and report on, but never returned from."

"What's the deal with the maps?" Hawke asked, her curiosity peaked. "You have maps of those areas?"

"Those that remain and thrive in the undiscovered countries do not wish to be a part of our world. They do not agree with our suppression of magic, want no part in our politics or religion. They wish to be left alone, and I have given my word they would be." Morrigan rolled out the map she had been holding on to the table. "What I can share with you is this; tis a copy of what I had given Neria, though she was never aware of what it meant."

Cassandra walked around the table, studying the large parchment. "Hardly impressive," she stated. "We have maps of our own territories; this is nothing new."

"Indeed," Morrigan acknowledged. "Until you lay this on top of it." She took out another parchment, so thin you could almost see through it, and laid it on top of the map.

"That was in the book," Neria said when she saw the thinner paper. "We studied it for months but it just seemed like random markings."

"Tis far from random when viewed over the map," Morrigan answered as she stood on the opposite side of the table. "Each circle on the map has a duplicate. For instance here," she said pointing to a marked spot in the middle of the Brecilian Forest. "The script translates to the ancient Arlathan word for the number twelve. You'll also find that same word over here in the Planasene Forest." The three women followed Morrigans finger as she ran it across the map.

"Oh look!" Hawke exclaimed as she matched up another pair. "There's one from the Kocari Wilds to Starkhaven!"

"Forty-one in total," Morrigan advised them. "Each an Eluvian that leads to its pair."

Hawke sat back down and had to laugh. "I know someone who would be so mad right now they aren't here."

"But we found you here," Neria said pointing at the symbol over the Dragonbone Wastes. "I don't see its pair on the map."

Morrigan followed Hawke's lead and returned to her seat as well. "Its number is sixty four. You'll find others with no match simply because its double is not on this map."

"The undiscovered territories," Cassandra stated more than asked. "All of these portals, they work?"

Morrigan shook her head. "I have not sought many; in fact the last one I used is no longer accessible. There is a portal however directly to the Tellari Swamps; tis how we will arrive without my mothers knowledge."

Neria turned to Morrigan. "The mage I met that helped me find the Eluvian in the Wastes told me that the Eluvians are tainted and unsafe to travel. You mean to send us all through?"

"I would not lead you to danger, nor would I endanger myself. I have used the Eluvian before to keep an eye on my sister and discover my mothers plans."

Cassandra eyed the witch. "And you aren't sick?"

"Do I look ill to you?" Morrigan retorted. "I am not, though you needn't take my word for it. I have in my company a healer who has also assured me entering these two portals will bring you no harm." She nodded towards one of the guards who then retreated down the hall. "In exchange for your assistance, I offer you the locations of these portals within Thedas that do not lead to the uncharted continents. Decide amongst yourselves what to do with them; I care little."

Hawke continued to study the maps with the plotted Eluvians. "Why not return this information to the Dalish?" she suggested. "I know of at least one who'd love to get their hands on this."

"I think we should destroy it," Neria said softly.

"A piece of your own history?" Hawke couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The Dalish I've met would do almost anything to have this information, in fact she has done some pretty unthinkable things to learn about the past."

"Exactly why it should be destroyed," Neria replied. "I do not wish to speak badly of my people, but Morrigan was able to use these portals to begin with by stealing a book from one of the Dalish clans. They do not have the proper means to guard something this big."

"Why does it need guarding?" Hawke questioned. "I would think they'd want to discover these Eluvians, research the area where they are built."

Cassandra finally offered her opinion. "I agree; destroy them. Should this fall into the wrong hands, entire countries could be destroyed."

Hawke sighed as she slumped in her chair. "So dramatic," she muttered under her breath, though the others heard her.

Cassandra pushed back her chair and stood. "This one for example," she pointed at Par Vollen on the map. "If the Qunari only knew about the portal they had leading straight into Minrathous, they would crush the Tevinter Imperium and take on the rest of Thedas. Or the opposite. To avoid land and sea and enter into the enemy territory with your army...I don't even want to see anymore."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Typical Chantry. 'There's a remote possibility of danger, so destroy it.' How many millennium have these mirrors existed, without anyone being aware of them? I happen to think the Dalish are the _perfect_ people to bring this to, regardless of risk. For one, it's theirs by right. And secondly, they are constantly on the move. Even if, somehow, someone else became aware of what the mirrors truly are, how in the Makers name would they know which Dalish clan to target for the information? "

The debate was interrupted as the guard returned with Morrigan's son and the healer she had mentioned. Neria gasped in disbelief as she watched her old friend escort Aurelian into the room. "Wynne?"

The older mage smiled. "Hello Neria," she said as she released Aurelian's hand who then ran to his mother. "I expect you have questions for me. I'm afraid they must wait, however. There is much to do, child, and very little time."

"They have concerns for their safety in entering the Eluvian," Morrigan explained to Wynne the reason she was brought into the meeting. "Twould seem my word is not convincing enough that the portals are not tainted." She placed her arm protectively around Aurelian's waist as he looked at the map on the table.

"What Morrigan says is true," Wynne confirmed. "Now please, _all_ of you," she said looking at Morrigan pointedly, "get some rest. You'll be departing in the morning."

Neria looked as if she were about to protest, but a stern look from Wynne stopped her from speaking. Though it had been years since she saw the woman, there was still that motherly bond and respect between them that caused Neria to obey her command.

"That goes for the both of you too," Wynne said as she stood over Morrigan and her son with her arms crossed. "You've barely slept these past few months, you need it now more than ever."

Morrigan nodded as she released her son and pushed her chair back. She knelt down before Aurelian and held his hands. "Go upstairs with Wynne now and do what she says," she instructed the child.

Aurelian hugged his mother. For most of her life Morrigan never could understand the need for human touching such as handshakes or hugs, but the birth of her child had softened her a bit. She wrapped her arm around him in return and kissed his forehead. "Go," Morrigan repeated. "I will be up shortly."

Wynne took hold of Aurelian's hand and the two retreated to the bedrooms. Morrigan rolled up the map and Eluvian locations and carefully placed them back into the case she had made for them. As she sealed the lid a sudden sensation pulled at her insides. A feeling she hadn't felt in a long time came over her, and she grabbed hold of the chair to steady herself. For a brief moment she felt him, and her emotions nearly consumed her.

The odd vibe faded as quickly as it came, though not before Morrigan realized what it was. She sat back down and buried her face in her hands. _No, it couldn't be, not now..._

"Morrigan," Wynne's voice startled her as she spoke her name and approached. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Her eyes filled with fear and anger, Morrigan looked up at Wynne. "That _fool_ is attempting to track me," she informed Wynne.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Wynne asked.

Morrigan was clearly agitated at the question. "Oh no you don't," she replied to Wynne. "I will not listen to another one of your lectures about that...that... _templar._ "

"Very well," Wynne said turned away from her. "But you knew it was going to happen. I suggest you figure out a way to accept that before he finds you."

Morrigan considered several spells to throw at the woman before she disappeared down the hall. "Twould seem I have little choice," she said to the empty room.


	11. Chapter 10

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**._.~`~._.Chapter Ten._.~`~._.**  


_"And so you see your highness, there was little time to go through the appropriate channels," Regalyan knelt before Queen Habren and was apologizing for the earlier commotion. "Have you ever considered visiting Val Royeaux? A woman of your class and stature should really not be cooped up here in this dreadful castle."_

_Habren sighed dramatically, though she was enjoying the handsome mage's flattery. "Oh how I dream of returning to Orlais," she told him. "You've really come all the way from White Spire?"_

_"I would've come sooner had I known such beauty existed here," he replied as his green eyes wandered up and down her body. "Forgive me your majesty," Regalyan nodded towards Alistair, "but your wife is as radiant as the sun and it fills my heart to look upon her."_

_Habren giggled as Alistair rolled his eyes. "You're forgiven," he said dryly. "So we are to leave immediately then?"_

_Regalyan stood. "You're right, we mustn't keep the Divine waiting," he said towards Alistair. One step forward and he had Habren's hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "I look forward to seeing you again upon our return your highness."_

_The queen blushed as she allowed her hand to be kissed. "You should take some lessons while you're on the road," she told Alistair._

_"Yes, I'll be sure to do that," Alistair replied sarcastically._

"And that worked?" Fenris asked Alistair after he finished recapping how they were now on the road for the two elves that weren't there.

Alistair nodded. "I don't know which is worse; her believing his attentions, or her expecting me to do the same when I return."

"So you will be returning then?" Zevran asked.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked with a hint of sadness in his tone. "If I don't then Ferelden will be ruled by its Queen, and I can only imagine how _that_ would turn out."

"Not well," Fenris stated. "I do not believe she will be happy when she learns you have ditched your guards as well."

Alistair laughed, the thought of annoying his wife oddly satisfying him. "No, I suppose not."

They had spent most of the afternoon on the road after leaving the castle. As soon as they were outside Denerim Alistair had slipped on the ring, and ever since he'd just _known_ what direction to take. Regalyan had been unable to explain exactly how it worked; it felt similar to the taint alerting him to nearby darkspawn. He just _felt_ it.

The journey began towards the east. Zevran suggested they stay off the main road so close to Denerim; travelers and natives to the area would recognize Alistair and he feared someone might take advantage of the small group. Being this close to Denerim without his guard was dangerous, even if a necessity. Fenris still had his concerns that the king may be useless in battle, and he was also wary of Regalyan who seemed to show up just at the perfect moment.

Now the mage walked ahead of the group, Jaeger sniffing the road by his side. Having learned that Cassandra wasn't the only one missing increased his fear for her. Regalyan had no choice but to trust the two elves and the king behind him, but still he felt alone. It had been a long journey from White Spire, and now he was on the road again. He didn't mind though, he'd walk for eternity if it meant seeing Cassandra again.

"Wait," Alistair called out from behind him and Regalyan did so. The king walked forward and then looked south. "I think we're meant to go towards the Brecilian Forest."

Zevran looked at Alistair with curiosity. "That would make very little sense considering her last encounter with the Dalish," the assassin stated. "As I recall Neria's tale, Morrigan befriended and then stole a rare artifact from their past. They would not be welcoming her with open arms as they say."

Alistair closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, focusing his thoughts on the ring as if that would help him verify what he was feeling. After several seconds a low growl interrupted him, and Alistair turned towards Fenris. "I'm sorry," he said in frustration. "I'm trying."

Fenris crossed his arms angrily over his chest. "That wasn't me," he scowled, nodding towards Jaeger.

The mabari growled again, crouching low as he stared off into the north. Zevran and Fenris simultaneously pulled their weapons, forcing Alistair behind them. Jaeger started barking as the bushes in the distance began to rustle from movement, and Regalyan took cover behind a large tree.

Four men dressed in mismatched armor approached the group with their own weapons at the ready. "You there," a tall baldhead man called to them. "You are trespassing on Bann Sighard's lands. Announce yourselves or be prepared to be cut down!"

Alistair called from behind the two elves. "Return to the Bann and tell him we request a formal meeting."

The smaller of the approaching group spoke. "And who be you to request such a meeting?"

"Don't," Zevran whispered under his breath but Alistair saw no reason not to announce himself so close to Denerim, particularly if it helped avoid an unnecessary battle.

"Tell him the King of Ferelden requests an audience!"

The baldheaded man laughed. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Antiva! Get em boys!"

Immediately the four strangers sought to overtake the three, until fire rained down in between them and the elves. Regalyan remained hidden as he cast his spell of protection on Alistair, and Fenris charged the group. Zevran had disappeared only to reappear behind them, taking down the smaller one before he could even take a step, his dagger through the spine killing him immediately.

Fenris began his attack on the other two while Alistair charged the loud one. A shield to the face echoed in chorus with Fenris' blade through the air as steel met face and blade. Zevran jumped in to assist with the two on Fenris, managing to tear one away from him. The leader swung his sword back at Alistair, who easily blocked with his well positioned shield while bringing his own blade down in one swift motion, cutting the man's arm just as he pulled away.

Zevran and his opponent danced in circles, matching each stab with a defensive move. Fenris let the built up anger and rage of the past few days fuel his markings, and the bright light was enough to throw his target off balance. He brought his sword up and then in an arch came crashing down to disarm the man, whirling the weapon back upwards to slash him across the chest. Zevran had to sidestep to get out of the way of the falling attacker, allowing his opponent to get a shot in and cut him deep on one side. The man that was engaged with Fenris fell to the ground, blood covering his leather tunic, and Fenris impaled the man with a final blow to the throat.

Regalyan heard the sharp cry that escaped Zevran's lips as he continued the fight with his assailant. A quick freeze spell slowed the attacker and another spell temporarily aided Zevran. Jaeger assessed the situation and then moved in to assist Alistair, gripping the bald man by the ankle and tearing into his flesh. He screamed, leg flailing in an attempt to dislodge the mabari's jaw, and it was just enough of a distraction for Alistair to land his killing blow. One upswing of his sword and the man's throat was slashed, his body falling to the ground seconds later.

Fenris and Zevran combined with Regalyan's spell were more than enough to take down the remaining stranger. Alistair rushed over to see if his assistance was needed, and it was only when Zevran fell to one knee that the king realized the assassin was badly wounded. Regalyan cautiously moved from beyond the protection of the tree at the insistence of Jaeger's nudging and now was able to give Zevran's wound the proper attention.

As the mage worked on Zevran, Fenris offered a nod towards Alistair. "I owe you an apology. You are not quite as incapable as you appear."

Alistair frowned, trying to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult. "Uhm...thanks?"

A small smirk crossed the former slave's face as he sheathed his sword and began searching the bodies. "Simple bandits, nothing more," he said after a closer inspection. "Perhaps the king around here should place some patrols on these local roads."

Now Alistair knew the elf was poking fun. "Sure, of course. Right after he sits down over here and takes a nap," he said propping himself up against a tree. "Can we eat now?"

"That depends. Will you live?" Fenris asked Zevran.

Regalyan finished tending to Zevran and helped him stand. "Ah, see I knew I was growing on you," Zevran replied twisting his torso to test his mobility. Once he found he was able to move with ease, he bowed towards Regalyan. "And thank you my new friend, I feel as good as new!"

"It's getting late," Regalyan spoke the obvious as the sky grew darker. "I'd recommend food and rest before continuing on."

Jaeger barked at the corpses laying on the ground. "I agree," Zevran said to the mabari. "Let us dispose of the bodies and move further south before camp. One more hour of light left at least yes? That should be sufficient."

Alistair had only just realized he had been fiddling with Morrigan's ring since the combat. "I feel like she's close," he said suddenly, forgetting all about his hunger. "But why would she be? We're only a few miles from Denerim."

"Perhaps she wished to keep an eye on you," Zevran surmised. "What better place to hide from you than right under your nose?"

Fenris opened his fallen pack and tossed a fruit towards Alistair. "We eat on the way. If they are close, we move now."

It was clear in his expression that Fenris wasn't going to accept any rejection of his plan, and the others found whatever they had to eat that didn't require cooking. They continued further south, through brush and into dark, until Alistair stopped them at the base of Dragon's Peak. He looked up into the darkness, the others following his lead, and focused on a very distant dim light. "She's there," he said pointing upwards. "And she knows we're here."


	12. Chapter 11

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**._.~`~._.Chapter Eleven._.~`~._.**

The brewing storm was relentless in its fury. The gray sky lit up in blue and white before the lightning crashed into the ground, the sharp crackling sound nearly drowned out by the thunderous boom that followed. The four men continued to climb the mountain on muddied paths, pushing against the wind that nearly threatened to send them hurtling over the side. A few trees lost their limbs above; branches and leaves following the path of the rain.

Alistair tried to speak to the two elves that walked in front of him, but his voice was lost in the downpour. The others kept their heads down to protect their faces from the watery assault, and the only thing Alistair could do was reach for their armor and tug. He yanked them into a small hollow that was sheltered from the storm, then quickly jumped back, away from the daggers and blades about to strike.

"Don't kill me!" The king held up his hands in surrender.

Zevran laughed, flashing his wicked grin as he sheathed his daggers. They all wiped the rain from their faces as Regalyan stepped further into the alcove to survey their temporary shelter. "Not an ideal place for a fire," the mage told the others. "The smoke may drive us out as quickly as the rain drove us in."

Fenris didn't see the need for the delay, in fact he hated it, but held his tongue as the others were shivering around him. "Near the entrance then," he offered the suggestion to Regalyan. Being so close to finding his Hawke had him wanting to run right through the storm to face the witch alone, if necessary. He knew his death however would not please her, so he waited.

Regalyan and Zevran began collecting twigs and leaves that littered the cold dirt beneath their feet as Alistair and Fenris removed their cloaks, setting them on some exposed tree roots in an attempt to let them dry. The atmosphere was heavy within the group as they all wanted to move on but they were resigned to the fact that they were trapped. For now.

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

The windows rattled against the beating they took from the wind and rain, the darkness outside causing the guards to scurry around lighting even more candles to counteract the blackness of the room. Morrigan sat at the long table, her head still buried in her hands as she ignored the chaos outside the walls. It was no different than the mood swirling around her heart at feeling _his_ presence so near.

A confrontation she did not want was about to take place. She'd wanted to confront her mother first. The strength of their link had not increased in the last hour, but neither had it dissipated. What was he up to she wondered? What was he planning? The stern calling of her name interrupted her thoughts, and Morrigan looked up at the older mage as she re-entered the room.

"Morrigan," Wynne stated in that disciplinary tone. "You must do something about this."

The darker haired of the two sat back in her chair, resting an elbow on its side to prop her head upon. "Now what is it I must do something about?"

Wynne stood firm at the head of the table, crossing her arms. Her expression relayed her disappointment at Morrigan's avoidance of the obvious. "This is no normal storm," she stated. "You need to speak to your son."

Noticing it for the first time, Morrigan looked upwards toward the window. The cascade of water could be seen pouring down in front of the lightning-charged sky in random flashes and streaks. Her safe house had taken on a recent chill, causing Morrigan to finally lock eyes with Wynne. She was correct; the rolling thunder and oddly falling rain was not the product of any natural occurrence. While she thought her inner turmoil and angst were due to the impending arrival of her son's father, now she recognized it as the after-effects of the magic used to create such chaos. She stood, offering a slight nod to Wynne as she disappeared down the hall to her son's room.

Aurelian sat on the bed, legs crossed, staring intently out the large window. Morrigan moved slowly across the room, settling on the bronze trunk in front of the glass. The storm continued to rage outside as the witch watched her son who refused to meet her gaze. She waited for a few minutes until finally the boy's shoulders slumped and he lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Morrigan didn't relax her posture, and now crossed her arms over her chest. "And yet the winds still howl," she commented. "Have we not discussed such blatant, unnecessary use of power?"

Intense yellow eyes glanced up at her through random wisps of red hair. "You do not want him here," the boy stated.

She sighed, standing briefly to move toward the bed and sit beside her son. "No I do not," Morrigan admitted to him. "Twould seem inevitable, however. Delaying his arrival does me no favor."

Aurelian questioned his mother. "Why face him if you do not wish to?"

"There is much in this world we must face, though we wish twas not so," Morrigan replied. "He is but a man; you needn't worry that I fear him." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Now put an end to this so we may move forward."

He closed his eyes and the downpour ceased. Clouds gave way to a bright moon above and the trees settled in the calm wind. As quickly as the storm had come, it was gone, only damp leaves and ground remained. Nervously biting his lower lip, and avoiding a glance at at his mother, Aurelian asked, "Can I face him too?"

The question lingered in the air for some time, Morrigan carefully keeping her breathing steady as she contemplated an answer. Once her son opened his eyes and looked up at her again, she could not help but notice the hopefulness within them. "Should he wish it," she finally replied, "I will allow it."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

Regalyan had seen to it that the men's clothing were dry, and they ate in relative silence as the rain continued to hold them prisoner within the small enclosure. Fenris stood beside the fire at the entrance waiting for the first sign of a break so they could continue on. For this reason he was the first to notice the change in the sky: gray clouds above seemed to dissolve into nothing as the moonlight appeared, cascading a soft white glow over the damp woods surrounding them.

"Time to move on," Fenris stated as he looked back at the others and stepped barefoot into the softened mud on the cliff.

Alistair felt the nerves build in his stomach as he got to his feet, gathering his sword and shield and resting both on his back. Zevran placed a warm hand on the King's arm. "At worst, she turns you into a toad, yes?"

"Very comforting," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes as he apprehensively stepped out of the cave behind Fenris. The top of Dragon's Peak was now visible in the clear night, and Alistair could see the light reflecting from the large fortress dancing against the starry sky. "I didn't realize we were this close."

"Someone didn't want us any closer," Regalyan commented as he extinguished their small campfire.

"Indeed," Fenris agreed. "Then why now?"

Alistair didn't like it any more than the others. "Zevran?"

"I'm on it my royal friend," the assassin stated as he disappeared into the shadows and up the jagged path. It only took him a few minutes to reach the small flattened area atop the mountain. He observed two guards circling the area, dressed in full plate bearing an insignia Zevran was not familiar with. Two more guards stood vigilant, blocking the large double wooden doors of the entrance.

Circling to the rear of the stronghold would be impossible Zevran discovered. Thick trees and brush concealed massive stone walls that were nearly as high as the fortress itself. Off the main path were several obvious traps as well as a variety of others he had never seen before. He had little doubt there would be magical glyphs in place as well. With a heavy sigh he descended the path and regrouped with the others.

"Well my friends, it appears we have two options," he advised Alistair, Regalyan, and Fenris. "Knock on the front door, or turn around and enjoy the company of a few whores for the evening. That place is sealed up tighter than a Chantry sister."

Alistair groaned and Fenris growled. Regalyan didn't see what the big deal was. "She must know you're here if that storm was any indication," he stated. "Now that it has vanished as quickly as it came, I'd take that as an invitation."

"Or a trap," Fenris disagreed. "Discuss if you wish, I am not waiting any longer." It was clear his patience was at an end as the former slave ascended the path and walked straight for the massive building. Zevran shrugged and followed his elven friend, Alistair and Regalyan hesitantly following only seconds behind.

The two guards that were patrolling made no effort to stop them as they continued walking their unpredictable course through the trees. The foursome approached the other two guards at the entrance. "You are expected," one of them stated, and opened the door for the group before he stepped aside simultaneously with the other. The king glanced at his companions before cautiously stepping across the threshold.

Fenris kept one hand on the hilt of his sword as they entered, another guard greeting them in the foyer. "This way," his booming voice echoed within the walls. They were led into a larger room of minimal furnishings and light. Three more guards stood watch in front of three halls. "Wait here," the taller guard ordered as he disappeared down one of the corridors.

Alistair and Zevran shared a look as they stood in the middle of the room. Regalyan and Fenris studied the surroundings, Fenris' hand clenching tighter on his sword as footsteps were heard approaching their direction a few minutes later. Morrigan entered the room, without guard, and stood in the doorway.

"Do not follow, I told you, yet you are here," she stated coldly.

The others looked to Alistair, allowing him to handle the situation. "I respected your wishes," he said to her. "I stayed away. But a small matter of kidnapping was brought to my attention that I could not overlook."

Morrigan scoffed at his statement. "Small matter indeed, as they are no longer held against their will," she informed him. "Tis the reason for the assassin and the others?" she asked addressing Alistair's companions.

"Where is she?" Fenris questioned in anger, refusing to wait any longer.

Morrigan nodded to the three guards and they disappeared down their respective halls to retrieve the women. Neria was the first to be escorted into the room, her golden brown hair a bit disheveled from being awoken at this hour. She rubbed her eyes as she entered the lit room after being in the darkened corridor, and immediately focused on Zevran.

Having been apart the longest, Zevran slowly made his way toward her as if he couldn't believe his own eyes. The sight of her nearly broke him as her tears began to fall, her feet refusing to move in fear that she'd break the illusion. It wasn't until his strong sun-kissed arms wrapped around her and he buried his face in her neck that she was able to believe he was really there. She threw her arms around her love and held him tightly with all her strength.

"Ma sa'lath," he whispered in her ear.

Their reunion was being observed by the others, until Fenris heard his name in that sweet voice he had longed to hear again for what seemed an eternity. He spun around to see her copper eyes wide with joy and filled with love. They ran toward each other, ignoring the others. A passionate kiss, filled with hunger and lust, joined the two of them together in the middle of the grand room. His fingers tangled in her auburn hair and hers within the white strands of his.

After seeing both couples reunited, Regalyan turned to glance down the remaining hall as he heard her approach. He would know that stride anywhere, the consistent pace she kept no matter where they were. Cassandra stopped at the entranceway when she saw him, then quickly scanned the room noticing the others in their loving embraces. She nodded toward her mage and he did the same, knowing she purposefully kept her distance and avoided a similar reconciliation. It wasn't her way, never their way, for public displays of affection, especially since he was a mage and she a Seeker.

Hawke pulled away from Fenris briefly to look at Morrigan. "We still have until morning?"

Morrigan nodded, curious as the question implied the Champion of Kirkwall would still assist her even after being reunited with her lover.

"Good," Hawke said, taking Fenris' hand and leading him toward the hall where her assigned bedroom was. "We'll talk then," she stated, and nearly broke into a run in her hurry to be alone with Fenris, his pace just as fast behind her.

Morrigan looked at the other two couples. "Perhaps retiring for the evening twould be best," she told them. "Your guests are free to remain."

"Thank you Morrigan," Neria said when she finally pulled away from Zevran's embrace. Though Morrigan had done nothing to contact Zevran as Neria had asked, she didn't bother to tell the elf that as she joined arms with the assassin and disappeared down the hall.

Regalyan waited for Cassandra's cue, which she gave him as she stepped aside for him enter the hall first. They remained silent, Regalyan stealing one final glance at Alistair and Morrigan, the only two who remained in the grand room behind them.

"So," Alistair said uncomfortably breaking the silence between them now that the others had left.

Morrigan sighed. "Come with me, if it pleases you," she said to him as she returned to her own quarters, the King of Ferelden dragging his feet behind her.

Alistair wasn't sure if _pleased_ was the right word. Yet he did know, beyond all doubt and more than anything, that he wanted to meet his son.


	13. Chapter 12

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* * *

**._.~'~._.Chapter Twelve._.~'~._.**

Neria didn't want to release his hand when he pulled away, not until she realized what Zevran had intended. He swept her off her feet, supporting her back with one arm and slipping his other behind her knees. She brought her arms around his neck and secured them there, resting her cheek on his shoulder and inhaling the scent radiating from his skin. It had been a long time, a very long time, since she'd been enveloped by the blessedly familiar aroma of Antivan leather, and Neria didn't bother to hold back the tears that drifted on to his jerkin.

Zevran stopped only for a moment to kick in the door to her temporary room, stepped across the threshold, then nudged it shut behind them with a sway of his hip. Swiftly he moved toward the bed and attempted to lay her down, but she dragged him down with her; Neria was not letting go for anything. Zevran chuckled low in his throat as he maneuvered himself on top of her. He spread his legs to fit on either side of hers, keeping only the length of her arms between them as he gazed into her eyes. The mixture of sadness and overwhelming joy could be clearly seen in their depths, and he bent down to kiss each one.

"Ma sa'lath," Zevran repeated again, _his one love_. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Neria's trembling hand trailed down his cheek, tracing his tattoo. She stopped below his chin, her thumb sliding across his lips. He kissed her softly, lost in the sensation of her touch after being without her for so long. He closed his eyes, reveling in sensation as her fingers explored his face again as if memorizing it; his brows, his eyelids, nose and mouth all came alive with each soft touch.

"Is this real?" she whispered. "Are you really here?"

In answer, Zevran pressed his mouth to hers ever so gently. He pulled away a moment later to caress a tendril of her silken hair, reassuring himself once again that she was real. "I could ask you the same thing. If we are in the Fade, I hope we never wake."

"I have missed you more than I can say," Neria murmured, brushing his lips with her own once more. The two lovers stared into each others eyes, both wanting the moment to last forever.

"And I you," Zevran answered, his voice barely audible as emotion overwhelmed him. They pressed against one another, a muffled moan vibrating through their exploring tongues. The sweet sound of Neria's longing tested Zevran's carefully controlled desire. He wanted to move slowly as he rediscovered each precious inch of her all over again, just as he had their first time. If her gasps continued in this manner, Zevran knew it would not be long until he must have her.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

Down the opposite hall, things were not progressing as slowly; quite the opposite in fact. The guard that had followed Hawke and Fenris to her room was nearly in a sprint keeping up with them, until he lost sight of them by the forceful slam of the door. Seconds later the clank of armor could be heard dropping to the floor, followed by a strong thud against the wall.

The guard wasn't sure if he should intervene or not based on the muffled and almost painful cries he heard from within. In the darkened hall, a light began to radiate from under the door followed by another loud thump. He considered storming the room, knowing Morrigan would not be pleased should something happen to her guest. But a growl similar to an angry canine, followed by a pleading woman's cries gave him pause.

Leaning against the wall closest to the door, the guard continued to eavesdrop for a few more minutes, listening for any further clues that he should either barge in or warn his employer. Shuffled footsteps led away from his position, and then the creak of a wooden bed frame and groaning caused the stoic guard to blush. He straightened his posture, adjusted the uncomfortable bulge beneath his trousers, and returned to his post at the end of the hall.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

Regalyan followed Cassandra down the hall in silence, occasionally looking over his shoulder at the guard who followed. He was thankful when they slipped into her room and away from the man's prying eyes. Though on the surface he appeared the same as any other human, there was something different about the guards in this place that made Regalyan uneasy, and he made a mental note to ask Cassandra about it later.

She sat on the edge of the bed, silently waiting for him to join her. He did so, and considered several ways to question her, but it was Cassandra that spoke first. "How did you find me?" she asked, eyes still fixated on the rug beneath her feet.

"Oh it was easy really," Regalyan told her. "Knocked over a few templars, sliced up some bandits, and then blackmailed the King of Ferelden."

Cassandra shook her head as she smiled. "Galyan," she said turning to look at him, and doing her best to keep her expression firm. "How?"

He didn't bother to answer. Instead Regalyan leaned in to kiss her. He anticipated her resistance, and brought his hands to her neck to keep her from pulling away. After long moments of encouragement, she finally began to return his passion, her body loosening its rigidness for a more relaxed posture.

"How?" he repeated and followed with kiss. "I'd want to know _why._ " He caressed her lower lip with his own. "Must these questions be answered now?"

"Yes," Cassandra muttered as she began working on removing his clothes.

"Confronted the King, some elves were there, magic ring," Regalyan told her succinctly while he nuzzled her neck and peeled away her shirt.

"Slay dragons, kill some witches, save the world," Cassandra replied as she pushed at his robe and kissed his shoulder.

Curiosity momentarily sated, they continued with their next mission of removing the last obstacles in the way of their reunion.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

He was sure he had never been this nervous in his life. Not when he was a child being scolded by Isolde. Not when he was sent off to the Chantry. Not even when joining the Wardens, or becoming King of Ferelden. The only other time he was close to being this nervous was the night he and Morrigan had spent together.

Alistair followed a distance behind, fingering the ring that had reunited them. Seeing her had ignited something within him, though exactly what he wasn't clear on. He certainly didn't love her, so what was it? For so many nights he had imagined this moment, and wondered if she had as well. _Foolish_ he knew, and he could hear the word said in Morrigan's voice as it echoed repeatedly through his mind. Even now, as he kept pace behind her, he couldn't help but be curious what she was thinking.

Morrigan fought to ignore the internal struggle Alistair was experiencing. Their proximity was too close, and the fool kept touching the ring, which projected his emotions clearly to her. She would need to get it back before his feelings consumed her. Struggling with her own heart was hard enough; being so near to him, seeing him after so many years apart, she hadn't expected that she would actually miss him. Oh how her mother would scoff at her for such thoughts. Flemeth's voice in her head finally banished her wayward thinking; Morrigan focused on the task at hand rather than the father of her child, who now trudged along behind her.

She left the door to her quarters open for him to follow. Alistair hesitated, took a deep breath, and entered the room. It took a few minutes before his eyes left the floor and scanned the room. His heart dropped as he discovered that the child wasn't there.

"A few things first," Morrigan advised him after feeling his apprehension and quick disappointment. She held out her hand to him. "The ring, if you please."

Alistair looked down at his only connection to her, to his son, and shook his head. "No," he said sternly, surprising her and himself with his defiant tone.

"I could take it from you, should I wish," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He wasn't sure why he didn't believe her, but Alistair called her bluff. "Then take it. Until I have other assurances I will not return it."

Morrigan sighed. "Fine. At the very least I ask you remove it, for your feelings are currently driving me mad."

"My feelings?" Alistair asked. "But how do you know…" he trailed off, realizing the stupidity of that question. Of course she knew. The ring was a link; just as he knew she wouldn't fight him for it, she knew every emotion he'd experienced since entering the fortress. Slowly he removed the ring and then reached into his pocket, where he placed it within the velvet pouch she had given him.

Morrigan briefly closed her eyes; she searched and was thankful when she didn't find any further effects of the ring. Her eyes flew open when she felt him walking towards her. "Do not think to swoop down on me templar," she warned him.

His eyes squinted ever so slightly as his lip curled, the joke on the tip of his tongue, but her stern icy glare convinced Alistair that she was not in the mood for his antics. He took a respectful step away from her and relaxed his posture to help settle her nerves. Hands behind his back, Alistair questioned her. "So tell me Morrigan, what trouble are you in?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, fighting the need to insist that everything was fine and she didn't need his assistance. But this was far from the truth. Fighting against her pride, and the need to be independent, Morrigan reluctantly told him the truth. "Tis not _I_ that requires the assistance of my... guests," she said as she moved to sit on the edge of the windowsill. "The child is in danger."

"What sort of danger?" he asked, suddenly fearing her answer.

Morrigan lowered her head, the shameful answer escaping her lips. "Flemeth."

Alistair felt himself flush as anger stirred within him. "And you didn't think to come to me?" He began to pace the room, frustration tearing at his chest. "Months we spent on the road together! _Maker's breath_ we had a child together! How could you not trust me enough to come to me with this?"

"Twas not a matter of trust," she informed him, softening her tone.

"Then what?" he snapped back at her, not realizing she had dropped her defenses. "Your blinding hatred of me? Your fear that I would take him away? I promised you I wouldn't. And whether you believe it or not, my word _means_ something to me."

"Idiot man-child," she shouted, her control finally snapping. "You are in as much danger as our son!"

"What do you..." Alistair began, but Morrigan was past all reason, and she raised her hand intent on slapping that arrogant look from his face. Alistair, however, was too fast for her, and caught her wrist in a tight grip. For a heated moment, they locked eyes, and she was appalled to find that it wasn't just the ring causing this tumult of emotions within her. Before she fully knew what she was doing she threw herself forward and her mouth was on his, daring him to respond.

He did.


	14. Chapter 13

Without thought, Morrigan's arms wrapped around his neck as Alistair responded to her kiss. His hands gripped her waist, and as he pressed against her, the weight of his body caused them both to move across the floor. After their blind passion had propelled them completely across the room, Alistair gently pushed Morrigan against the wall and deepened the kiss with a soft groan, reveling in their rediscovery of each other after so many years. Her small frame felt fragile in his hands, but her mouth upon his was the opposite; demanding, and with a strength he'd only ever found in her.

Soft moans from her stirred memories of their one and only time together so long ago. Alistair had little control over his body's response as slender fingers sifted through his hair, grazing his scalp and encouraging him to give her more. He did so, with a familiar ease gleaned from the countless dreams he'd had of this moment. His tongue ran smoothly over hers, pulling away only slightly to encourage her nips at his lower lip. Wanting hands moved up her back, pulling her away from the wall and closer to him. Before either knew what was happening, Morrigan's legs were wrapped around his waist and Alistair was guiding them to the bed.

His armor was stripped away by her skilled hands, falling to the floor loudly before he gently lay her upon the bed. All fear that he had felt with her previously was gone; Alistair found himself wanting her with a ferocious need that he never knew he could feel. Morrigan held him in her vice-like grip; arms and legs around him tightly, refusing to let him go even if he wished it. But he didn't; he wanted this as much as she did. He made his intentions clear by pressing his obvious need against her, and she opened her legs further offering her permission.

Alistair pulled away from her slightly to begin removing his clothes. He gazed down at her, everything that had been missing in his life for so long. All the empty nights he'd spent in a loveless marriage, and the guilt that had plagued him whenever he touched his wife, wishing it could have been Morrigan's soft skin under his hand.

His wife. He was a married man. Even as the woman of his true desires lay beneath him, waiting, wanting him, he felt a sudden surge of dread. Images filled his head as he recalled the last time they were together like this - before the death of the archdemon, before he was crowned king... before he was _married_.

"I can't do this," he groaned, unable to believe the words were really coming from him. Oh he wanted to, he had wanted to for years...but...

Morrigan propped herself up on her elbows. "Why do you continue to deny yourself?" she demanded, her face flushed with want and frustration at him pulling away. "You hold to worthless ideals when the world has not a care for whether you live or die!"

"I just _can't_ ," Alistair rasped, one hand running through his hair. "I'm _married_ now."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and you love this woman so much, tis clear. Truly."

"Well...no," he admitted softly.

"Then what is it, your precious Maker?" she asked. "The vow you made means something in His eyes?"

Alistair shrugged, refusing to look at her. "I don't know," he whispered. "Maybe."

Morrigan retreated from the bed and moved closer to him, running her hand along his arm. "Your kingdom then?" she asked with a softer tone, sensing his resolve. "The people depend on your ability to remain faithful?"

Alistair gave a short laugh. "None of them even know I'm here."

"Well then," she concluded, bringing her other arm around his neck again. "I see no other excuse for you to fall back on, less of course this isn't what you truly desire." Her lips were on his again, taunting and teasing him with renewed passion.

She was right; there was no real reason why he couldn't have what he wanted. And right now he wanted her more than anything. It took little effort for Morrigan to begin removing his clothes once he had resolved his internal struggles. Her hands moved under his shirt and his body instantly reacted to her touch as she caressed his chest while lifting the material. Pulling away only to lift the garment over his head, Morrigan immediately returned to his now swollen lips, demanding he not back away again.

He had no intention of doing so.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

His nerves were getting the better of him now that he was alone, pacing the room as he waited for Morrigan to return with the child; his son. Alistair wasn't sure what he was going to say or how to even act. Morrigan assured him that the boy was well aware of who he was, and why it was necessary for the distance kept between them. But did those assurances make up for the fact that he hadn't once met the boy in all these years?

Alistair stopped pacing and looked out the high window that overlooked the rugged cliffs where they'd sheltered only the day before. The sun was hovering just below the horizon. Almost morning; later than he had thought. Waking after a brief nap, tangled in Morrigan's arms and legs had been an oddly comforting feeling for him. It was certainly a pleasant change from the cold back he often woke to - that of his wife. That was if she slept in the same bed with him at all; often Habren busied herself with other tasks and fell asleep in another room. Not that he minded.

He used the windowed glass to run a hand through his tousled hair, trying in vain to make it look presentable. The more he gazed at his reflection, the more he was certain Zevran would have offered some remark about finally giving into temptation. Alistair pulled at the sleeves of his shirt and then the hem; more useless actions he knew, but he couldn't stop the nervous fidgeting. He was moments away from meeting his son and he was terrified.

Alistair heard the door open and his heart jumped to his throat. He took a deep breath before he turned around, and there stood a young boy in the doorway. Alistair had expected Morrigan to return with the child, but there was no sign of her. Just his son, eyes wide and looking up at him expectantly.

There was no denying the child was his; Alistair tossed aside all doubt when the boy looked up at him with eyes that were an oddly hypnotic combination of his own and Morrigan's. The two of them stood silently for a moment, both frozen in the wonder of seeing each other for the first time. Alistair hadn't considered that the child may be just as nervous as he was, yet there was a touch of apprehension in his expression. He cleared his throat, not wishing his first words to his son to sound as choked and uncertain as he felt inside.

"I hope you'll forgive me," Alistair began. "But Morrigan, your mother, failed to tell me your name."

The child continued to hover in the entrance to the room. "Aurelian," he replied, hand still firmly grasping the handle of the door.

"Let us do this properly then," Alistair suggested, walking over to the child and extending his hand. "A pleasure to meet you Aurelian. I'm Alistair."

Aurelian hesitated before releasing the door and placing his hand in his fathers. Alistair shook it firmly, though took into account the pressure of his grasp. "You too," Aurelian said with the motion.

Alistair attempted to lighten the mood with a soft chuckle. "Your mother once told me she didn't understand the need for a handshake as a greeting."

Aurelian looked up at him with curiosity. "Why?"

"You'd have to ask her." Alistair shrugged as he moved aside for Aurelian to enter the room. "I find it's a nice gesture to say hello to someone when you first meet them. A way to make them feel comfortable."

Aurelian nodded as he walked toward the two chairs in the corner of the room. He sat down and Alistair followed his lead, settling down across from him. There was a bit of awkward silence between them, neither one certain what to next say to the other. Simultaneously, they both ran a nervous hand through their hair. Aurelian's childish giggle at the mutual action made Alistair smile, and the tension in the air was a little less heavy.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

The conversation between them flowed easier after that. Aurelian seemed to have an endless supply of questions for Alistair; mostly about his past travels with Morrigan and what it was like to be the King of Ferelden. Alistair remained as neutral as possible in his responses, not wishing to elaborate on just how much he'd fought with Morrigan at first, or the details surrounding Aurelian's conception.

It surprised Alistair how mature Aurelian was for his age. Though he had little experience being around other children, Aurelian showed a maturity that Alistair could only attribute to the way Morrigan had been raising him. Trying to ignore the fact that the soul of an Old God lingered somewhere beneath his son's innocence, Alistair warmed up to him quickly, and old regrets began to resurface. How could it be he had missed so many years of his son's life? And would he continue to do so when all of this was over?

The pair were so engrossed in their conversation that neither noticed Morrigan had been standing in the doorway for a time. She hadn't meant to listen in on their conversation, but as she witnessed the ease at which they were communicating Morrigan ignored her own guilt for having kept them apart. There would be a time and a place for regrets; now however was not that time.

"I see you two haven't killed each other yet? Tis a good sign," she stated as she entered the room.

Aurelian was clearly disappointed that his mother had joined them. "We aren't done talking," he complained.

"I'm afraid the time has come for me to leave," Morrigan told her son. "You may continue your discussion once I've left."

Alistair stood, a shocked expression on his face. "I am going with you," he told her. "If I didn't make that clear enough before, allow me do so now."

Morrigan glared at him. "Tis not up to you Alistair," she said firmly. "You are in as much danger as he is," she added nodding towards Aurelian. "You are free to remain here, however, and look after him while I'm gone."

Alistair turned to Aurelian. "Would you mind giving your mother and I a moment alone?"

True to his age Aurelian huffed before getting off the chair and leaving the room. Alistair followed, closing the door behind him before addressing Morrigan again. "Oh that's right, I forgot you were about to slap me before you filled me in on what is happening," he said to her. "How about now? Exactly how is he, or both of us, in danger?"

"Foolish to think you could piece it together yourself," she mocked him. "Flemeth is after your bloodline; tis the reason you must remain here, safe and out of harm's way while the rest of us see to it that she is no longer a danger to you or to my son."

" _Our_ son," Alistair corrected her. "And if he is in danger, _I_ should be there to protect him. I've fought Flemeth before, could she be that hard to take down a second time?"

Morrigan sighed, frustrated at not being able to get through his thick skull. Why she was surprised by this she didn't know. "Tis more than just Flemeth, you see. I have no time to explain it to you; just know tis best you remain here."

"Well _that's_ not going to happen," Alistair said defiantly. "Now you can either tell me your plan, or I will get it from the others. I am their King after all, and should I order them not to help you unless I come along, they will obey."

"Threats now! He's resorted to threats!" she exclaimed to the room. "Is there no end to your madness?"

"Apparently not," Alistair said softly as he moved closer toward her. "Allow me to be there for him, for you," he whispered before gently pressing his lips upon hers.

"Maddening," she responded again, lost in his touch for a moment before pulling away. "Come then, if you insist."

* * *

 


	15. Chapter 14

_**Authors note: In case you missed it, there's an M-rated extended version of the previous chapter titled A Mage's Kiss. You can find it on my profile page! It'll incorporate some of what you've already read so it could stand alone as a one-shot, but I hope the added scene makes it worth the brief recap ;)** _

* * *

The blood pooled beneath his armor, and Fenris released a growl that sent even Jaeger scurrying from him. Hawke held him down by his shoulder, scolding him for making such a fuss. "The more you move the more it'll hurt," she told him. "For all our sake stop squirming and let Zevran pull it out."

Zevran knelt beside Fenris, a knee on his arm for more stability. "Fear not my tattooed friend. I am an expert at extracting arrows from the flesh."

Emerald green eyes narrowed at the assassin. "As am I with internal organs," Fenris stated through gritted teeth. "I will demonstrate if you do not hurry up!"

Zevran looked up at Hawke. "Is he always this impatient? Does not make for a good lover."

Hawke couldn't help but laugh. "I suggest you do as he says Zev. I've seen him tear the hearts out of men and it isn't pretty. Well, except the blue glow that happens... that's pretty."

Fenris closed his eyes and tilted his head back, annoyed at the two above him prattling on while he was in such pain. An instant later he could feel the arrow being ripped through muscle and skin, followed by the warmth of his own blood trickling down beneath his arm. He held his breath as the intensity of healing magic reached him, Regalyan sealing the wound as best he could.

Zevran brought the arrow to his lips and tested the tip with his tongue. "No poison? You are lucky again."

Hawke helped Fenris get to his feet and then Fenris moved his shoulder in different ways to test its flexibility. "Luck is that we all still live."

"Yes," Alistair agreed from behind them. "So much for a nice quiet day of travel."

Morrigan spoke next. "I did not think the battle would be this close to the Circle."

"What battle?" Neria asked, feeling as if she was missing something the others had already known.

Cassandra was inspecting the body of one of their many attackers. "Fights like this have broken out all over Thedas since the fall of the Chantry in Kirkwall." She stared at Hawke and then Neria. "This is why I need you, both of you. To help prevent needless death like this from happening."

"Oh no you don't," Hawke retorted. "This happened because a bunch of rogue templars saw three mages and decided attacking first and asking questions later would be a good idea. You can't blame your war on Kirkwall. Mages and templars have hated each other for longer than that."

"Anders fanned the flames," Fenris added. "But Hawke is correct. Is it not your duty to control this?"

Cassandra grew frustrated, and only Regalyan's light touch on her arm seemed to calm her. "It is our duty to protect the Divine, watch for corruption within the Templar Order and seek rogue apostates. Mediating is new to all of us, an unfortunate necessity given the uprising caused by the mage Anders."

"And yet you keep company with one," Fenris pointed out as he noticed the interaction between Cassandra and Regalyan. "Perhaps there is corruption within your Order as well."

Cassandra stepped towards Fenris as if to fight him on his words, but Regalyan held her back as Hawke got between them. "Fighting among ourselves will not solve this war today," she told them both.

"It would've been nice for the Chantry or the Seekers to tell the leaders about this," Alistair interjected. "Why am I only now hearing about these skirmishes all over Thedas? You were at the castle in Denerim when you were looking for Neria and never once felt the need to mention this?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I was under orders not to," Cassandra offered as an excuse, backing away from Fenris and addressing the king. "We had hoped the news would not spread as quickly as it has, but the mages are fleeing and the templars are following. What happened here is the result, small scuffles such as this one have been reported by many of our scouts."

Neria reached for Zevran, taking his hand in hers. "What can we do about it?"

"What we can do is have this useless political argument later," Morrigan said. "I wish to move on please, unless you wish to stand here and wait for another attack?"

"How much further?" Alistair asked her, looking toward the sky. "It'll be dark soon."

"We need only follow the path around Lake Calenhad," Morrigan answered. "Just shy of nightfall we shall camp for one last night before reaching our destination."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

"Well, this feels oddly familiar," Neria sad as she sat down next to Alistair. The campfire crackled and lit up the area with tents and bedrolls forming a circle around them. Off in the distance another small fire could be seen as Morrigan set up her own camp away from the others.

Alistair smiled at his former companion. He had been lost in thought staring into the blaze before the hero of his country joined him. "Yes I suppose it does," he said tossing some grass he'd pulled from the ground into the fire.

"Do you miss it?" Neria asked.

"Miss the constant travel, danger around every corner, and the impending doom?" Alistair laughed softly, turning to look at her. "No, not really. But I do miss you. And the others."

Neria studied his expression. She had seen Alistair a few times since the blight, but never for any lengthy visit with any time to talk without some advisor or his wife looming over his shoulder. He appeared a bit sad, but below that he also seemed at ease. "I miss them too," she admitted. "And I do miss this, even with the impending doom and danger. We were a family then."

Yes," he nodded, looking in Morrigan's direction. "Some of us more than others."

She followed his gaze to her old friend who was preparing a meal for herself. "He's beautiful," Neria stated. "Your son, I mean. Looks just like you."

The corners of his mouth curled just a little at the thought of Aurelian. "Thank you. She's done well raising him. I hate admitting that I'm surprised by that, but I couldn't imagine him being any more perfect than he appears to be." He turned to look at her again. "Did you sense anything? When you met him?"

Neria shook her head. "No, but then again my magic was somehow blocked in that fortress. And as far as the taint... I didn't feel him at all. Did you?"

"No," Alistair answered. "But that's a good thing right?"

Neria shrugged. "You two need to talk about it," she said nodding her head in Morrigan's direction. "In fact you should be over there instead of sitting here with me."

He knew she was right, and had wanted to approach Morrigan for the last hour, but for some reason his legs refused to follow his command. They hadn't spoken at all for most of the journey to Lake Calenhad, one or both avoiding the other. It's not that he regretted spending the night with her, but he wondered if she did. Did she even have regrets? "After all this time, Morrigan still makes me nervous."

"The mighty King of Ferelden? Afraid of an apostate?" Neria gave a playful chuckle.

"Well don't tell anyone," Alistair tried to sound serious.

"Your secret is safe with me, Your Majesty," Neria stated. "On the condition that you walk over there and talk to her. Fight your fears. She's the mother of your son after all, it's about time the both of you put an end to this stupid promise of staying away from each other."

He hesitated to move. "Could it be that easy?"

"I never said it would be easy Alistair," Neria told him truthfully. "But it is time. You both need to come up with a plan for that boys future, together."

Alistair took in a deep breath and sighed. He knew Neria was right. And considering what had happened between them after their reunion, he wasn't sure why he was still afraid to speak to Morrigan. So he gathered his courage and stood. "Thank you, Neria," he said, looking down at her. "You've always been there to give me that extra push. Don't think I've forgotten."

She smiled at him as she watched him walk across camp and approach Morrigan. Neria knew he wasn't being malicious in his last words, but sometimes she wondered if giving him that push to take the throne was the wrong decision, and maybe he held a grudge against her for it. He wasn't the same person she had first traveled with, and she blamed herself for the sadness in his eyes. If he weren't king, perhaps he would've had more involvement in raising his son.

Two hands came over her face and covered her eyes. The familiar smell of Antivan leather immediately brought her out of her somber thoughts and Neria smiled. "Oh my, whoever could it be?"

"Someone devilishly handsome no doubt," Zevran said before moving his hands to her chin and lifting her head to look at him. He knelt behind her and kissed her forehead. "Still solving all Alistair's problems for him?"

Neria kept her head tilted back, looking at Zevran upside down. "Giving him new ones I think."

"Ah, good, that means he's distracted," Zevran said standing up, reaching for her hand and helping her rise. "The lake is finally ours to bathe in, my dear. Let us go."

She kept her hand in his as they made their way toward the lake, taking one last look behind her to see Alistair talking with Morrigan. Neria hoped after tonight they would come to some agreement for their son's sake.

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

Regalyan didn't need to look hard for Cassandra. The sound of steel against the dead oak tree echoed throughout the forest, and he kept a healthy distance between them as he observed. He had seen her like this before throughout the years; frustration built within her that could only be released by aggression. He preferred not to be on the receiving end so he waited.

The tree had done nothing to her of course, but Cassandra wanted and needed the practice. The blade of her longsword glistened as it caught the moon's light just before slicing through bark, only to be stopped by the massive trunk. Withdraw, change position, strike again. Right side, then left, then right as she held her shield in front of her face to protect against the wood chips that flew in various directions. She cared little for the noise she was making; she welcomed a fight.

Failure was not an option, and yet she believed she had failed. The deaths of the templars they'd fought earlier weighed heavily on her mind, and she couldn't help but think that fight may have been avoided if she weren't assisting in this endeavor. Against her will at first she reminded herself, but now she went willingly, and worse she had involved Regalyan. He was no longer safe at White Spire; he was here, a few feet behind her she knew, which meant he was at as much risk as the rest of them.

She increased her attack as she recalled the last time she had battled a dragon, what seemed like a lifetime ago, thanks to a cult of blood mages. She was the last of the dragon hunters, thus making this her duty to perform as well, but the conflicting roles she played in her life caused her great stress. If she failed here, if the Hero and the Champion fell in battle because she was not successful, Thedas would fall with them. Cassandra carried this burden, and fought to release it through her sword.

Fighting the shooting pain in her muscles as her arm protested under the strain, several more blows hit the tree. Her grunts were barely helping her keep away the tears that stung her eyes, until she was no longer able to see her target and her blade missed. Cassandra threw it to the ground, along with her shield, and reached for her daggers to begin again.

Regalyan couldn't watch her suffer any longer. Before her tired arms could even lift the blades he was behind her, holding her upper arms. "I think that's enough for now."

She spun around and faced him, the pain in her body floating away as he healed her inflamed muscles and soothed away all the aches in her arms. Cassandra looked up at him, soft brown eyes wide with a tender unguarded look she only gave to him. "It's not enough," she told him in a rare moment of weakness. "I am not enough, not nearly strong enough to do this again."

He raised a hand to remove random wisps of hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead, his green eyes sparkling as he returned her gaze. "You are the bravest, strongest, and most beautiful woman I know," Regalyan reminded her. "You have killed more dragons than this entire party combined. It's in your blood, Cas, it's what you were born to do. Do not doubt yourself now."

"I fear for you being here," Cassandra said as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. "But I am also thankful it was you who came looking for me."

He returned her embrace. "Tomorrow you will show them all what you are capable of. And then we return together, with your Hero and your Champion, and we stop this war from going any further."

Cassandra nodded against his robes. "I suppose I can't lose with my healer beside me."

"A dashing young healer I might add," Regalyan stated, his laughter bringing a smile to her face. "Can I ask you one thing though?"

She turned her head upwards to look at him. "What is it?"

"Were you really going to strike that elf earlier?"

"Of course not," came her quiet response. They remained silent after that, Cassandra continuing to hold on to Regalyan for support. She still felt apprehensive about their future; the fate of the world was in her hands, and should she fail, all of Thedas would fall. It was not a position she enjoyed being in. Closing her eyes, she thought of her mentor Byron, wishing he were here with her as well.

* * *

****


	16. Chapter 16

 

Fenris scowled as he sharpened his sword, the long strokes across the whetstone becoming more forceful as his confusion mounted within him. His eyes were locked across camp, at the king and the witch engaged in conversation, and his imagination was busy entertaining several different ways to kill her. Beheading sounded quite satisfying; his fist wrapped around her heart, a swift snap of her spinal chord. Or perhaps his blade through her lungs, watching as she gasped for air but found it impossible to breath.

That is what she had done to him when she took his Hawke.

The others may have forgotten, joined her willingly on her quest to 'save the world' as she called it. But Fenris was far from over the pain she had caused him. Weeks he had searched for Hawke; no food, no sleep, drudging through the darkest and deepest corners of Kirkwall for any sign of her. His heart began to pound, and the heavy fast rhythm fueled the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His markings began to glow, illuminating his face and highlighting the vengeful expression. He was seconds away from taking the four strides he'd calculated between them...

"Fenris?" Her voice startled him, and his blade swiftly cut through the air behind him. Blocked only by her daggers, the tip of the sword mere inches from her throat, Hawke still smiled when she looked down at him. "Bad night?"

Immediately registering his near fatal error, Fenris stood, dropped the blade and placed his hands gently on her neck. "I apologize," he whispered, searching her neck for any sign that he had injured her. Sighing with relief when he saw no blood, his markings faded to their soft white lines against his skin. "You should not sneak up on me Hawke," he scolded, though still holding her, now burying his fingers into her hair.

"I wouldn't be a very good rogue if I stopped sneaking up on people," Hawke stated as she kissed his cheek. "I assume you're upset about something? Or was the light show to turn me on? Because you know it does... "

"Hawke," the low rumbling of his voice sent her a clear warning.

She sighed. "Fine. Sit, let's talk about it."

Fenris returned to his seated position on the log and picked up the whetstone again. He hoped keeping his hands busy while discussing that witch would somehow prevent him from killing her. "I need to understand Hawke," he began. "Why you chose to help her?"

Hawke laughed. "I don't know if chose is the right word after being kidnapped and held against my will," she responded. "Personally I'd rather head back to Kirkwall and play cards with Varric."

He turned to look at her. "Then why?"

She sighed, looking over at Morrigan and Alistair. "Because he is my king," she said in a gentle tone, one she was not known to use often. "It's to protect him, and his child. And because I trust the judgement of the others who have all decided to remain and see this through. What kind of Champion would I be if I walked away?"

"A smart one," Fenris replied. "You take on too much, and often end up hurt because of it."

Hawke shook her head. "No, I take on what I believe in regardless of the possible outcomes. This isn't just about saving that boy, Fenris. It's about saving the lives of everyone I care about. If what Morrigan says is true and these dragons are awakened, they will destroy everything in their path." She turned to look at him. "I can't just sit around Kirkwall, waiting to hear the roar of a mighty beast, and watch the people and city I love burn yet again."

"You blame yourself?" Fenris asked, hearing these words from her for the first time.

She turned away from him but nodded. "Something I would only admit to you," she said quietly.

Fenris put down the whetstone and his sword and took her hand in his. "My path is with you Hawke," he reminded her. "I remain at your side."

"I prefer you naked at my side," Hawke said with renewed spirit. "You done with your sword?"

The low growl that escaped his lips was answer enough, and the two of them disappeared into their shared tent. It was almost essential that they come together on the eve of battle. It strengthened their connection, so that every thought, every movement played out as if the two were one. As he finally pulled Hawke fully into his arm and began to work the fastenings of her armor, he heard a small scratching sound coming from outside.

"What is that?" he asked Hawke.

A low sad, whining sounded next, and more scratching near the opening.

Hawke's soft laughter spilled into his ear as she drew him closer. "It's just Jaeger. You know how possessive he is."

"He will stay outside tonight, Hawke," Fenris stated and resumed his task. He wanted her naked in his arms more than he could bare. There were still months to make up for.

"Yes," she agreed, and turned her head. "Jaeger!" she called. "Perimeter duty!"

This time Jaeger growled low in his throat before Fenris heard his paws slapping the dirt as he moved off to obey his mistress.

"Now," said Hawke, "Where were we?"

"Right here," Fenris said, and claimed her mouth with his.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

Morrigan looked up from the stew she had prepared as Alistair approached her. "If you've come with some foolish notion that we must discuss the events of our previous evening, I suggest you move on, lest your desire is to embarrass yourself."

"Makers breath, must you always be on the defensive?" Alistair asked, knowing Morrigan for who she was and not taking to heart what she'd said. "I've come for answers. You have yet to explain to me exactly why it is our son is in danger."

She tried to ignore the warmth that formed around her heart at hearing Aurelian referred to in such a way. It would do her no good to think about Alistair as any sort of father to the boy; those thoughts would only lead to imagining a future that included the king, and she knew without doubt he had no room in his life for someone such as her or their child. "You may sit then," Morrigan informed him. "Am I to assume you wish to share in this?" she asked, gesturing toward the stew.

He accepted her rare offer of kindness and sat beside the fire. Morrigan filled a bowl for him and for herself, and the two ate in silence for a time. She studied him while he consumed his stew, noticing the similarities between Alistair and Aurelian. Her son was growing up quickly, and their looks as well as their mannerisms were nearly identical. It was clear with every gesture, each expression in his eyes, and even in his unconscious thoughts, how much of this man created the child she had foolishly grown to love.

"So tell me Morrigan," Alistair interrupted her musings as he placed the now empty bowl on the ground. "What's your mother up to now?"

Her stew was barely touched, but Morrigan discarded it as she prepared to answer his questions. "How well do you know your own history Alistair?" she began.

"You mean beyond being raised by dogs?" he joked, never comfortable about this particular topic.

"Fool," Morrigan called him. Why did he ask if he wasn't serious in knowing the answers? "I speak of Maric and your bloodline. Surely that Eamon told you something of your lineage, did he not?"

Alistair shifted uncomfortably, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I know nothing," he admitted. "Beyond being the bastard son of Maric and brother to King Cailan."

"Tis you who are the king now," Morrigan reminded him. "More important to Flemeth however, is that you are a Theirin. Your status as bastard, as you say, means little in regards to your bloodline."

Fearing she'd consider his next question stupid, Alistair worded it as intelligently as possible. "Your mother needs a Theirin to do... what exactly?"

Morrigan explained to him what she had already shared with the others. "Long ago the oldest and greatest of dragons that roamed Thedas were locked away within a stone temple in the Silent Grove. Twas the blood of King Calenhad the Great that was used in a ritual to bind the Queen of the Dragons, as well as several elders, into a deep slumber. Flemeth seeks to awaken these beings and draw their power and strength into herself, thus achieving immortality without the constant need to create and possess her daughters."

"And Aurelian fits in how?" Alistair asked.

"Through the Therein bloodline," Morrigan repeated as if it were obvious. "Mother has gone to great lengths to trace your bloodline. Vanedrin Theirin, for instance, was a known descendant of Calenhad, and he was father to Brandel whose daughter Moira gave birth to Maric."

"My father," Alistair whispered, seeing the connection.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Thus the bloodline continues, to you and to Aurelian."

Morrigan allowed him a moment to process the information. Alistair regretted now not asking Eamon for more information about his father or his own history. That Morrigan knew more about his family than he did was a bit unsettling, and a little embarrassing. But his father certainly never gave him any reason to care about family, so he saw no need to dwell on it.

"These blood rituals work with descendants across so many years?" Alistair asked, thinking out loud. "They don't, I don't know, go bad after a while?"

She was so surprised she nearly smiled at his question. "Blood magic is the strongest kind of magic there is. Your former templar teachings confirm that, do they not?" Morrigan nodded in the direction of Hawke and Fenris. "No need to take my word for it however. I believe the Champion has recently been through a similar experience, having her blood needed for a spell her father was involved in decades ago. Twas one of the reasons I chose her."

"The warden outpost in the Vinmark Mountains," Alistair stated. "Yes, I had heard about that. But that was a tie between Hawke and her father. What you are suggesting is beyond centuries."

Morrigan sighed. "I assure you there is no limit of time when blood is involved. You are a target as much as Aurelian, and I would ask you one more time, for his sake as well as your own, that you do not accompany us in the morning."

"I wish you could understand why I must do this," Alistair whispered, being completely honest with her. "Although it was a promise I made to you, I abandoned our son. I also failed you when first we battled Flemeth, not realizing she yet lived. Had we been more vigilant in our attack on her..."

"Foolish to think you could kill Flemeth, though I will not forget the attempt was made on my benefit," Morrigan added as a rare word of thanks. "As for abandoning our son... twould seem there is more honor in keeping true to your word, is there not? I gave you little choice Alistair, to carry that burden... tis unnecessary."

Alistair stood, brushing the dirt off his pants from sitting so long. "I appreciate what you're trying to do," he told her. "But my mind is made up. I will protect our son no matter what. If it's Therein blood Flemeth wants, let her try and take mine."

"And what of your country?" Morrigan asked, and then added quietly, "Or of your queen?"

He felt the sting of her words when she mentioned his wife, but Alistair did his best to ignore it. "Some things are more important than the throne or politics. My father chose Ferelden over his bastard son and I refuse to do the same." He moved to stand beside her, overlooking the camp and the small army Morrigan had gathered. "Four of us have faced an archdemon together and survived. Combined with the others, I have a feeling we might just succeed in this crazy venture."

Morrigan looked around the camp at the others, all engaged in their own intimate discussions. Was it enough? Had she prepared for every possible scenario? Facing her mother was foolish indeed, she knew this, but her son's life was at risk, as well as this man that stood before her, whom she dared to open her heart to. She suspected Alistair would refuse to back down, and a part of her was grateful that he would be beside her when she faced Flemeth, for what she hoped would be the last time.


	17. Chapter 17

 

* * *

Hawke wasn't sure how to feel as their group approached Lothering. She hadn't been back since the Blight, and the idea of seeing her former home was unsettling to her. The town was a logical stop on the way to wherever Morrigan was leading them; stocking up on supplies for potion making was a priority. Still, Hawke chose to remain close to the highway, observing the village from afar. Memories of her father and Carver were much too close to the surface as it was. Fenris, of course, remained at her side.

Neria and Alistair enjoyed exploring the village, and delighted in discovering how successfully it had been rebuilt. Though there was still evidence of the hordes' destruction in the landscape and in several collapsed and abandoned buildings, the new settlers had done wonders for the place. While Alistair couldn't openly congratulate them on their success so far in restoration, he made a mental note to offer them more assistance when he returned to Denerim.

Morrigan and Neria were able to find the herbs they needed for a variety of necessary potions, and Zevran had managed to sniff out the one poison maker in town. Cassandra and Regalyan visited the blacksmith to purchase a few extra daggers. It seemed everyone pitched in, spending as much money as possible to support the town; Alistair even noticed Morrigan buying a few unnecessary items for their travels, though he knew she'd never admit it.

They exited Lothering and headed north around Lake Calenhad. The high tower of Kinloch Hold caste a dark shadow over them as the tall structure blocked the lowering sun. Regalyan had no reason to fear being so close to the Circle; in fact he enjoyed being able to see it for himself, even if only from afar. Neria and Zevran simply exchanged a look, both remembering the last time they were there and the nightmares they had endured in the Fade. Morrigan rolled her eyes at all of them though as they stared at the gray-stoned building; seen one tower you've seen them all.

Following a winding path off the main road, Morrigan continued to lead as the others followed. The dirt path eventually gave way to high grass, overgrown brush, and sprawling trees.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Alistair questioned Morrigan as they carefully pushed back the large, imposing branches to move forward.

"This used to be a hidden trade route to West Hill before it collapsed," Morrigan informed him. "Tis not much further."

And she was right. It was only a matter of minutes that they were forced to endure scrapes and scratches from thorny bushes and branches that caught at their skin and clothes like sharp-clawed fingers. Soon, they came upon what appeared to be a small cave in the side of the mountain. Morrigan conjured a moderate sized fireball and threw it towards the cavern's mouth, where it disappeared into the darkness.

"What did you do that for?" Alistair asked with a puzzled frown.

The sound of high-pitched screeching coming from within was his answer. Seconds later, he and the others ducked as dozens of black bats came pouring out of the cave. Small flames danced around the entrance, where hanging lichen and spider webs had been lit afire. Morrigan cleared out the remaining debris with the bottom of her staff.

"Twould not have been wise approaching their nest without warning," Morrigan finally answered Alistair's question.

He shook his head as he followed her, the others falling in line behind him. Morrigan, Neria, and Regalyan lit the way using orb spells, as they wound their way through the many twists and turns of the cavern's narrow passages. The echo of their footsteps was the only sound they heard as they walked further under the mountain.

"This reminds me of all those endless tunnels and caverns in Sundermount," Hawke commented to Fenris as they walked on.

"Minus the corpses and spiders," Fenris agreed, though he remained focused and cautious, obviously prepared for unwanted surprises.

Morrigan dispelled her orb as they entered a spacious cavern; lit by teal and violet stalactites that had formed on the roof of the cave, their spells of light were no longer necessary. Particles of dust glittered in the air, almost like snow falling from a dark, wintry sky. Morrigan stood aside as she waited for everyone to enter the area, and watched as their eyes widened when they noticed the large structure in the center of the room.

The eluvian was a few feet taller than Alistair, the tallest of their group, and was reachable by a series of steps carved into its base. Two human figures crafted from stone stood like sentries on either side of the ancient arch. Neria's grasp on Zevran's hand tightened as she approached first, studying the archaic markings that outlined the strange, mirror-like object.

"This one is different," she commented, having memorized the drawings from the other two eluvians she had seen in her lifetime; the one that had initially tainted her and set her on the path to become a Warden, and the other where she had found Morrigan several years prior.

"Each is unique, tis true, save for its match in the world," Morrigan replied as she joined them on the platform, running her hand along the violet gelatinous substance within the arch. Ripples spread out in circular patterns from where her fingers had touched, and Zevran took a step back in surprise. "Only an illusion," she assured him.

"So, let me get this straight," Zevran began gently pulling Neria away from the artifact. "You expect us to just... walk through that, and we end up on the other side of Thedas?"

Morrigan turned to look at him. "Not as far as you'd believe," she said. "This portal will take us just outside Seleny, to the Tellari swamps."

Zevran couldn't hide his excitement. "We are going to Antiva? Had I known I would've brought presents!"

"For whom?" Morrigan queried. "Your guild or your fellow whores?"

"Can we just get on with this?" Hawke interrupted, quickly losing her patience. "Some of us have lives to return to."

Alistair was lost in his own thoughts. Something had been gnawing at his brain ever since they'd circled Lake Calenhad and ducked through the forests to the cave that housed the eluvian. Finally he pieced his random ideas together, and he spoke them out loud to find out if they made sense to the others. "So let me get this straight. A descendant of Calenhad's is needed to wake these dragons. And the quickest way to get to these dragons is a portal-thingy that just so happens to be next to Lake Calenhad. Anyone else find this a creepy coincidence?"

"But merely a coincidence nonetheless," Zevran replied, acknowledging the statement.

Morrigan had a counter argument. "Believing that there is no such thing as coincidence, twould not be surprising to me at all that the Dalish have always known more about this world than they cared to reveal."

Neria pondered that statement. "You believe the Dalish created the eluvians based on what, predictions of the future?"

Morrigan shrugged. "They are your people, not mine. Perhaps you should ask them."

"So we're all safe to travel through that thing?" Hawke asked, trying to keep the large group focused on the task at hand.

Alistair nodded. "I don't sense any darkspawn or sign of the taint."

"Tis perfectly safe," Morrigan stated. "I will enter first to make certain things are as they were last time I entered. Leave everything you don't need behind, and when I return we'll continue on together."

Alistair shook his head in disagreement. "I don't like the idea of you going alone," he stated.

"She's not," Neria spoke, squeezing Zevran's hand before releasing it. "We've already worked out a plan; I will be going with her."

None of the others seemed to object, and they remained silent as if waiting for Alistair to give his approval. He turned to Zevran. "You're alright with this?"

Zevran grinned. "I trust my Warden knows what she is doing, yes." He turned to the others. "Maybe Alistair would feel better knowing how exactly you are going to scout the area?"

Morrigan looked at Neria. "You do remember how, do you not?"

Neria smiled. As the others looked on, the petite warden transformed from an elf to a white dove. Morrigan shifted as well, taking the form of a black raven. The two flew side by side, the natural light from the cavern altering their feathers into a rainbow of colors.

"Maker's breath, I didn't know she could do that," Alistair said to Zevran as the two birds disappeared through the eluvian. He had always known Morrigan possessed that particular skill, had been lucky enough to hear some of the stories she had shared with Neria at camp during the Blight. But to see them both shift; he was in awe.

Fenris, however, was not. His audible growl at witnessing the mage's powers set the rest of the group on edge; especially Regalyan, being the only remaining mage. With a shy grin and a twinkle in his eye, he proclaimed, "I assure you the only changing I can do is with my clothes!"

The others laughed, except for Fenris who continued to frown, and they began sorting through their gear before Neria and Morrigan returned. They prepared weapons and potions, discarding anything they didn't need to bring with them. Once the other two mages returned, they would all enter together, and begin the hunt for Flemeth.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

"Do not be alarmed," Morrigan told the others when she returned with Neria a short time later.

At her words, everyone seemed to tense, their awareness heightened instead of their fears eased. The group began to step cautiously through the eluvian, one by one. Alistair hesitated, reaching a hand in first and flexing it on the other side. "So my hand is really in Antiva right now?"

"Yes my friend, as fascinating as the rest of you will be," Zevran said while pushing Alistair through.

Walking through the archway into the unknown, Hawke held her breath. She had anticipated some sort of long black hall before reaching the other side, but it was as Alistair had joked about; stepping through had you literally in two places at once. Bringing her other leg across, she immediately reached a hand up to her hair to see if it were wet; one would assume so after passing through such an oddly liquid substance, but everything on her person was dry.

"Strange," Fenris commented as he reached his hand out to her.

Hawke turned to look at the eluvian, and it appeared identical to how it had looked from the other side. "I would never get used to that," she commented. Her thoughts drifted back to Merrill's broken mirror, and she wondered what might have happened if she'd truly been able to restore it. Where would that eluvian, controlled by a demon, have taken the young Dalish mage? She shivered.

Neria, now back in her normal body, also studied the structure; noting that the designs and statues on either side were identical to the one they had gone through. She wondered if the markings signified the locations?

"Maker's breath," Alistair's whispered voice silenced the others as they turned to see what had startled the king.

The eluvian stood atop a large stone platform with stairs that led downward to the right and left. Spiraling to the front of the platform, the steps spilled onto a marble pathway that was bordered with skeletal bushes that were long since dead. Mirroring the cavern they had just come from, this one too had stalactites that protruded from the ceiling; the only difference was the myriad shades of white and pink that reflected off the gray marble below.

The beauty of the stonework was enough to take anyone's breath away, but that wasn't what had Alistair lost in wonder. On either side of the path, atop three large round pillars, lay what appeared to be dragons. Large scaled tails wrapped around their bodies, and their long necks hung over the edges, heads facing downward toward the ground. The glittering particles that hovered in the air stirred lazily when the dragons exhaled.

Cassandra was the first to descend the stairs; her footsteps deliberately quiet as she positioned herself next to the first pillar. Regalyan watched on from the eluvian platform, his breath held in anticipation. He glanced around and noticed the tense postures of his companions, as well. Seeing her walk between the dragons, the illusion of their girth was corrected; her body was approximately the same size as the beasts' heads.

Crossing the marble path Cassandra repeated her inspection on the opposite side of the cavern, maneuvering between the pillars until she returned to the base of the platform. "The legendary Hall of the Sleepers," she stated as she looked upward to the group. "It is true." It was clear from their expressions that they weren't as excited as she, and once again Cassandra thought of her mentor Byron, wishing he were here to share in this discovery with her.

The others descended the stairs and joined her. "We're just going to kill them?" Alistair asked. "While they're asleep? That almost seems unfair."

"Unfair?" Morrigan asked in disbelief as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Allow me your wrist then and by all means let us wake them. I'm sure they'd be grateful for the chance to eat you."

"Yes," Zevran agreed with a smile. "A most excellent idea. Shall I?" he asked Morrigan, removing his dagger from its sheath and stepping closer to Alistair.

Alistair sighed. "Alright, alright, I get it." Still, he was slightly disturbed that they would be killing these creatures as they slept. Even though, had the dragons been awake, they surely would have feasted on the eight of them without a second thought. He turned to Cassandra. "What can we do?"

"Stay here," she told them. "Only move if the need arises." Cassandra secured her longsword behind her and retrieved her dagger from her belt. The steel gleamed in her hand, its serrated blade perfectly crafted for piercing through the scales and thick hides of dragons. Her hand gripped the braided hilt, and the rubies embedded there felt warm under her palm. Power swept up her arm; power imbued in the weapon from the hairs of the many dragon slayers of old.

Feeling a bit helpless, the others watched as Cassandra and Regalyan moved toward the first pillar. Regalyan extended his knee for her to stand on, and then placed his hands on her hips to lift her up to the ledge. With ease of dexterity and strength, she used the momentum he had given her to reach the top, carefully positioning herself on the left side of the dragon's large mass.

Only inches from the dragons head, Regalyan kept a close eye on the creatures flaring nostrils for any sign that it may stir unexpectedly from its slumber.

Cassandra's dagger felt more like an extension of her hand, as she visualized exactly where she would need to strike to reach the creature's heart. It had been a long time since she had performed this particular act, and she did her best to suppress those memories. These dragons would not wake; she needn't fear. Focusing instead on her training, with a quick thrust, the blade penetrated deeply, twisting in a semi-circle through its scaled armor and hide, and then withdrew.

She reached into the torn flesh, and a second later removed the dragons heart, dropping it onto the ground with a reverberating thump. Regalyan released the breath he'd held as the beast released its final breath, and the flaring nostrils stilled. This one would never awaken again. He helped Cassandra down from the platform to move on to the next.

"Really?" Hawke muttered under her breath for only Fenris to hear. "That's it? You could've done that and we'd be done by now."

A brief chuckle escaped his lips, but his face remained stoic. "I shall leave it to the expert," Fenris said sardonically. "Though I agree."

By the time the fifth pulsating heart lay on the stone beating out its last, the power running through Cassandra's veins was intense, and she idly wondered if this was how it felt for Regalyn, when mana was surging through him. She approached the final dragon with confidence, sure their task would be over within minutes - but just as Regalyn again lifted her onto the platform, a clanking, clattering noise echoed throughout the cavern, and the great beast before her began to stir.

"I swear it wasn't me!" shouted Alistair just as the dragon lifted its immense head and its faceted eyes fixed on Cassandra.

All was deathly quiet for several long moments as the dragon's neck rose and turned, inspecting its now dead brethren. Cassandra gripped her dagger tightly, hoping to find some means to carry out her task, before it could attack, but it was too late. It heaved is massive form up onto its thick legs, and the roar that poured forth from its throat pierced her skull with a deafening pain.

"It's a fight!" shouted Hawke, and the roar of a lyrium-lit Fenris sounded on the heels of the dragon's cry.

The dragon beat its enormous wings, lifting itself from the platform and onto the cavern floor, and suddenly everyone was moving at once.

Alistair and Fenris immediately put themselves in harm's way, taunting and striking at the dragon with powerful blows, while the rogues seemed to disappear in the dim light of the cavern, only to begin an assault from the rear moments later. Regalyan kept a safe distance from the fight, offering healing when applicable. Morrigan and Neria retreated behind one of the dead dragon corpses as cover, yet soon the two had blue-white ice flying from the ends of their staffs. The spells helped to slow the dragon, but did not stop it.

Hawke was just eying the scaled back of the dragon, deciding just where she could find the best purchase to climb up its back, when a powerful scream rent the cavern. Cassandra came flying through the air, from Maker knew where, and landed on the beast just below its shoulder blades. Hawke grinned. A woman after her own heart.

Cassandra unerringly found her hold on the dragon's tough hide, and rode the beast as it were a wild, bucking bronto. Because the others kept the dragon in constant motion with their attacks, Cassandra had no idea how she would manage to maintain her balance and strike with her dagger at the same time. Each time she tried to shift to reach the spot over the dragon's heart, another wrenching movement would halt her efforts.

Her frustration mounting, Cassandra considered that she may have to use both of her hands to penetrate the thick hide, and knew that if she missed, it could mean her death. She'd just taken a deep breath in preparation for her attempt, when a voice near to her ear said, "Trust me."

It was Hawke's voice, and Cassandra could hardly believe another would dare to mount a dragon. Cassandra watched in disbelief as Hawke thrust her own dagger into the thick scales and reached out her other hand to Cassandra. More amazing still was the wide grin on the Champion's face as she did so.

With the steadying help of Hawke's hand, Cassandra knew she could penetrate through the hide to reach the heart of the dragon. It was only a matter of moments before the deed was done, and as the dragon collapsed, she tumbled from its back, still holding onto Hawke. When they reached the cavern floor together, the two shared their first genuine smile.

The victorious energy was short lived however, as the thunderous roar of a much larger beast echoed through the area. Morrigan barely registered it at first; she was more concerned for Alistair, and searched him for any obvious wounds. If the dragons were awake, Theirin blood _must_ have been spilt. But he had stood apart with the others, making it impossible for it to have been him. This could only mean one thing, and her knees became weak at the thought.

Alistair immediately rushed to her side, as he had been watching her as well and noticed her turn a pale white, making her skin seem nearly translucent. Gripping her by the arm he steadied her as the monstrous beast became visible. Clutching something in its talons, it swooped down toward them before circling overhead again.

One more complete circle through the high cavern, and it opened its claws and released its hold on a limp form that looked like no more than a bundle of rags. Neria was the first to scream; she was the closest to the body where it hit the stone floor in a sickening thud. Covered in bloody, tattered robes, with wisps of matted white hair, she recognized Wynne immediately.


	18. Chapter 18

 

Zevran held Neria as she tried to reach Wynne's corpse. It was clear the old mage was dead; the ragged, oval wounds that punctured her stomach and chest from the dragon's claws left no chance for a healer to perform a miracle. "Wynne!" she screamed again, as if her cry alone could bring back the motherly figure that had guided her through the Blight and beyond.

Hers weren't the only eyes fixated on the mutilated body. Morrigan knew that if Wynne were here, that meant her son was too. She didn't need to look up at the caverns ceiling, didn't have to wonder what the dragon had planned for them. She knew better than anyone exactly who that dragon was circling its prey.

Alistair held his breath behind Morrigan, feeling her turmoil as well as his own. Why had they not done more to protect Aurelian before they left? To leave him in that castle with only a few guards and Wynne to keep him safe... it clearly hadn't been enough, and his heart tightened painfully in his chest. For the dragons to have awoken...

Jaeger's incessant barking at the dragon ceased as the beast finally landed on the marble path. Hawke reached down to latch on to the scruff of his neck as he growled menacingly, preparing to attack the dragon. "Hold on boy," she whispered as she recognized the creature that settled its great form before her.

The air in the cavern swirled around them simultaneously with a flash of bright light as the dragon transformed. Once their eyes adjusted, they could see the figure of a woman standing where the dragon had been only seconds ago.

Those who knew who she was gasped in surprise that she would be here now, while Cassandra and Regalyan waited for the scene to unfold. The old woman with hair as white as snow approached the group, her long violet cape flowing behind her. "How good of you to come," the woman said as she placed herself in front of the entourage Morrigan had brought, her arms folded gracefully over her chest.

Cassandra moved as though she were about to engage in combat, and Hawke quickly held her arm. "Wait," she whispered, keeping an eye on the woman as the same time. Hawke wanted to attack as much as Cassandra, but with the death of Aurelian's protector, their plans may need to be adjusted.

Morrigan stepped forward two paces. "Such a grand entrance, even for you Mother," Morrigan replied.

"No grander than the small army of heroes you've collected," Flemeth retorted. "Is this the part where you slay your old mother in hopes to rid the world of her forever? Or have I put a wrinkle in your cleverly laid out plans?"

"You've gone too far Flemeth," Alistair spoke, his anger and fear for his son lending him the courage and strength to face the powerful witch.

"Have I?" Flemeth asked. "Or have I clearly not gone far enough? Or perhaps it is you that have gone too far, on the word of my Morrigan, with her claims of danger for my grandson?" She made another pass in front of the group before stopping in front of Morrigan again. "I could have reached Aurelian any time I wished," Flemeth advised her, gesturing toward the torn remains of Wynne. "Foolish girl, I thought I raised you to realize weakness when faced with it."

"And what would that be Mother?" Morrigan asked, refusing to let Flemeth see the panic that welled within her heart, and wondering just what the old witch had done with her son.

Flemeth laughed, the sound echoing through the empty cavern, followed by the whisp of a dragon's wings pushing through the air. Before the party had a chance to react, another dragon, smaller than Flemeth's form, entered from the opposite side of the cave. A blinding spell temporarily distracted the group as the dragon flew straight toward Morrigan.

Recovering from the spell a moment later, Alistair's eyes quickly sought the mother of his child. Restrained with her arms behind her by another woman, Flemeth continued to laugh, tilting her head back in joyous triumph.

"Hello sister," Morrigan replied to the woman that held her. "Should I assume this was your plan all along then Mother?"

"Ah, my dear girl, she finally gets it," Flemeth smiled...

Hawke was quickly losing her patience. "Someone care to fill the rest of us in? Before we kill you that is, I mean we've come all this way and everything."

Flemeth set her eyes on Hawke as if seeing her for the first time. "I had not expected to see you again. Interesting."

"Yeah, that's me," Hawke replied. "Interesting, and annoyed that I've been dragged all this way for what seems like just a family reunion."

The old witch laughed again. "All in good time," Flemeth said, as another flash of light tore through the cavern. Kicking up dirt and dust with the flap of her wings, Flemeth flew off deeper into the cavern, leaving Morrigan's sister alone to handle the group.

Morrigan took the opportunity to try and negotiate with the witch. "We both know Mother, Yavana. Whatever deal you think she will honor with you..."

"Yavana," Zevran echoed the name. "The Antivan Witch of the Wilds. So it's true!"

The others took a moment to assess the newcomer. Black leather boots covered her legs to just above her knees and a red velvet cape trailed behind her. Her midsection was barely covered in black leather as well, with her naval and upper chest exposed. Her long jet black hair was pulled back by a crown of ivy and thorns, and honey colored eyes glanced over the group before settling on Alistair. "You brought him here?" Yavana asked Morrigan. "Mother was right, you are foolish indeed."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Still waiting for an explanation!" She demanded, nearly stamping her feet like a child. "Or shall we attack first and ask questions later?"

"Twas not about waking the dragons," Morrigan advised them, her sister's grasp on her still strong. "Flemeth seeks to possess my body to ensure her longevity."

"Why you and not your sister?" Neria queried.

Morrigan shrugged. "Perhaps she wishes for beauty again, which would make me the logical choice."

Yavana spun Morrigan around to look her in the eye. "You think you're better than me? Yes, you've always believed that haven't you?"

"Twould seem I am correct, as I am here when she could've had you whenever she wished," Morrigan continued.

Hawke used the argument between sisters as a good enough distraction to withdraw her dagger and send it hurtling through the air towards Yavana.

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

The sound of the dagger missing its target and hitting the stoned floor echoed as they watched the bird fly to the center of the left pillar. Once there, Yavana transformed back into human form. "So it is battle you seek? Well then sister, show me what you and your friends can do."

Neria released a fireball and hurled it in Yavana's direction. With ease she avoided it, the spell dissipating against the cavern walls as Yavana shifted into a large cat, and then lept from one pillar to another. Morrigan attempted to freeze her in place, but it was no use. Yavana was more powerful than any one of them, and she escaped the icy grasp of the spell by shapeshifting again.

Between the pillars Jaeger raced, following the witch as she sent a rain of fire down over the group. They took off in several directions to avoid the flames that burned where they had stood only seconds before.

"We need to stop her from moving!" Hawke exclaimed and she watched helplessly as each of the mages attempted to strike. "And get her on the ground for Maker's sake, we're useless here!"

Morrigan thought for a moment, and then began channeling her energy toward the first pillar. Regalyan and Neria realized what she was doing and they assisted, sending all of their own energy to help shatter the stone column. Within seconds the first pillar had collapsed into a pile of rubble beneath Yavana's feet, causing her to shift once again and flee to the other side.

"Waste of your strength, but by all means do continue," Yavana taunted as she cast her own spell focusing on Hawke and Fenris, who stood in the far corner waiting for a chance to act. Beneath them the ground began to shake as vines intertwined through their legs, prohibiting their movement. Hawke and Fenris began to hack at the vines and soon Zevran appeared to assist them.

Two of the six pillars were now destroyed, Yavana's crazed laughter filled the cavern along with the sounds of combat. "Oh this is so much more fun than Mother had said it would be!" Two more spells flew from her staff, one directed at Jaeger and the other at Neria. Jaeger's barking ceased as he was encased in ice, and Neria quickly shielded herself from the attack.

Hawke was filled with rage at seeing her Mabari trapped; she deftly cut the last of the vines that held her and ran toward the dog. Regalyan quickly aided them by using a dispel on the Mabari, freeing him just as Hawke reached him. Yavana cackled above them, shooting flames at their heels as they retreated to the end of the cavern for cover.

Two more pillars fell, and then another, leaving Yavana only one left to cling to. Lyrium potions were hurriedly consumed as the mages began the final task of destroying the last remaining pillar. Everyone was constantly on the move, dodging spells from Yavana or staying out of the line of fire of the three mages. Fenris, Alistair, Hawke, and Cassandra however were still limited in what they could do as long as Yavana didn't allow them close enough to reach her.

Yavana channeled energy through her staff, causing a bright glowing shield to surround both herself and the final pillar. Regalyan, Neria, and Morrigan could not break through the orb of mana surrounding her, and their magic was being reflected back toward them. Sprinting away from the barrage of fire and ice, the exhausted group tried to come up with another plan to get the witch to ground level.

"Can't you smite her?" Regalyan asked Cassandra as he consumed yet another lyrium potion.

"It may not be enough," Cassandra replied. "Only your combined spells have had any effect."

"Perhaps Alistair can assist?" Morrigan suggested, believing they may succeed.

Alistair hadn't even considered smiting the witch, his long- ago templar training did little to prepare him for someone with this magnitude of power. "Would that even be possible?"

Cassandra shrugged. "One way to find out!" She called as she ran toward the final pillar, maneuvering through the shards of ice and balls of flame that cascaded around her.

Alistair rushed to her side and they both attacked. Simultaneously the three mages continued their assault on the pillar. Together, Cassandra and Alistair let loose their smites in a burst of white-blue light, and the shield around Yavana dispersed. She let out a terrifying scream before using the last of her energy to shift back into dragon form.

Once she landed between the destroyed pillars, it was time for the rest of the group to engage. Fenris taunted the beast from the front, creating enough of a distraction for Hawke, Zevran, and Alistair to get behind her. Seemingly from nowhere, it was Cassandra who leapt on top of the dragons back, and she stabbed the beast repeatedly with her blade, driving deep into Yavana's scaled flesh. The others did significant damage to the beasts wings, legs, and tail, until, with a roar of fury, Fenris drove his sword through its mouth.

Flailing in desperation, attempting to shake the attackers from her body, Yavana expelled a breath of fire upon her enemies. Fenris was hit first, though the shield Regalyan had thrown around him mere seconds before took the brunt of the damage. Yavana twisted her head to do the same to the others, but Hawke and Zevran leapt away just in time to miss the flames. Alistair seized the opportunity to get under the belly of the beast, using his sword to slice through the thick scales just as Cassandra was successful in doing the same from above.

The scream was not that of a dragon, but of Yavana as she shifted one last time back into her human form. Cassandra made a move to make a killing blow before Alistair shouted, "Wait!" He moved toward the witch who lay bloodied and defeated on the cold stone of the cavern.

"Alistair," Zevran interrupted. "There is no time for..."

"I said wait!" He demanded again, as the others backed away. He turned his attentions to Yavana, who lay gasping for air at his feet. Her body was a shredded mess from the attack, much like Wynne's had been, and Alistair suspected he didn't have much time to question her.

"Where is my son?" Alistair asked, pointing his sword at her.

"Aren't you the least bit curious how the dragons awoke?" Yavana asked, panting through her last breaths as Alistair's sword pressed into her throat. Should she swallow, the blade would pierce her skin, but she knew her life was forfeit anyway.

"Tell me where he is," Alistair demanded again through clenched teeth. "What has Flemeth done to Aurelian?"

Yavana coughed, and Alistair moved his sword enough for her to turn her head and spit blood onto the marbled floor. She turned back to look at him, a wicked, defiant glare in her eyes even during her final moments. "The boy is unharmed, last I checked."

"Then how?" Alistair said again, returning his blade to her throat. "If neither of us were harmed, how did she do it?"

Yavana laughed as she lunged upward, impaling her neck with his sword. Alistair immediately pulled the blade from her flesh and tossed it aside, covering the wound with his hand. "Tell me!" He insisted again as the blood seeped through his fingers.

She clasped her hand over his and looked into his eyes. "Marric," she whispered with her last breath, before her hand fell away from his. Alistair felt her pulse stop under his grip, and stared helplessly into her lifeless eyes.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: I consider this chapter co-written by Wintryone. Beta'd by her too, as well as Erana. I thank you both, and claim remaining errors as my own.** _

* * *

Descending further into the ruins of the Silent Grove was not wise, and yet they did so. Alistair and Morrigan took the lead, through the stone cavern and down marbled stairways, following the direction in which Flemeth had fled. Exhausted from the fight with Yavana, it seemed no one had a voice left to speak of what had happened thus far; Aurelian kidnapped, Maric still alive? What more could possibly lay ahead of them?

It was Zevran who broke the silence first, retelling a piece of the tale he had heard as a boy. "If memory serves, we are headed directly below the Hall of Sleepers, where it is said the Queen of Dragons lay in eternal slumber."

"That's what we heard about the dragons upstairs," Hawke reminded him. "They seemed pretty awake to me."

As the group behind them began to speculate on just what lay at the bottom of this seemingly endless stairway, Morrigan questioned Alistair. "What are your intentions, Alistair?"

"Kill your mother, rescue our son and go home," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why, do you have something else in mind?"

"You aren't the least bit curious about what Yavana said about your father?" she asked.

Alistair continued to look ahead, not meeting her gaze. To believe his father could yet be alive after all of these years... No. "King Maric died at sea. Yavana must have been delusional from blood loss. I don't want to think your _sister_ got that blood from Aurelian any more than you do, but it's easier to believe that than it is a dead king is being held prisoner below the Tellari swamps."

Morrigan hated it, but she had to agree that he made sense. They rounded a corner and descended another flight of steps. A bright blue light shown in the distance below, illuminating a path at the end of the stairs. She stopped and addressed Alistair once more. "Should the opportunity present itself, you will take Aurelian and leave this place."

"And let Flemeth possess you?" Alistair asked incredulously. He shook his head. "No, no way. We are all getting out of this together."

"If she does claim possession..."

"Don't worry," Hawke assured Morrigan as the rest of the group approached. "We'll kill you."

"What?" Alistair gasped. "No! No one is killing anyone except that witch in there," he said, pointing toward the open cavern.

Neria tried to be the voice of reason. "Alistair, we are here to kill Flemeth. In whatever form she may take."

"You're asking me to willingly kill the mother of my son?" Alistair couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't... I won't do it." His heart was filled with bitter regret that they'd been unable to kill Flemeth long ago, during the Blight. He remembered thinking Morrigan was cold - cruel, even. If only he'd known then what he knew now.

"Which is exactly why the others will," Morrigan stated firmly. "I would prefer Aurelian not be witness to such a thing, yet if it can't be helped, so be it. And should Flemeth prove successful, I will, for all purposes, be dead already. I need your word you will protect him Alistair."

The others had formed a semicircle around them, all looking to Alistair for an answer. Morrigan's bright eyes were the furthest thing from cold, now. They were filled with love and fierce determination. He knew they were right, but still he refused to agree to killing the one woman he knew he loved. "I will protect our son," he told her. "And you."

He turned quickly, and marched purposely toward the cavern below, his resolve hardened. He'd make sure he killed that bitch before she could take Morrigan away from him. He would not lose her again.

The others followed Alistair, preparing themselves for whatever waited for them below. Hawke glanced at Fenris, and the look in his eyes made her question him. "What's wrong? Other than the obvious, I mean."

A sad smile curved his lips. "Could I make the choice Alistair now faces?" He shook his head. "Be careful, Hawke. I cannot lose you."

"Don't worry," she replied, trying to lighten his mood. "You're stuck with me."

**._.~`~._.*~*~*._.~`~._.**

Seconds passed as they stood in the entrance to the underground cavern, allowing their eyes to adjust to the brightly lit area. The first thing that stood out was the enormous dragon that lay in repose at the room's center, its head turned inward and its tail wrapped around it. It was huge, much larger than Flemeth in her dragon form, or any high dragon any of them had ever seen. The great beast was so still it almost appeared to be made of stone, except for the slight rise and fall of its breath beneath its grandly scaled skin. So near to the dragon the air was warm, and held the faint reek of charred wood. Surrounding the area where the queen lay was a massive, recessed circle carved into the stone floor.

Far to the right of the dragon they saw Aurelian, suspended and encased in some kind of glowing magical prison. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes focused straight ahead, watching the beast intently, seemingly unaware that the group had entered the area. Both Morrigan and Alistair resisted the urge to run to him, not wanting to do so until they discovered Flemeth's whereabouts. From the little they could see through the flickering magic light that held him prisoner, the boy appeared to be unharmed.

"Maker preserve us," Regalyan whispered, and they all turned to see what had caused the mage to gasp in horror.

Huddled in the corner was a man. His features were impossible to discern through the long, scraggly hair and beard that hid his face. The only clothing he wore were a pair of tattered pants, filthy with mud and blood. What flesh was visible was covered in bruises and carvings of unfamiliar runic symbols. When Regalyan made a move to step closer to the man and offer healing, the stranger recoiled, and muttered to them in a raspy voice. "Go.. away...'fore...she... returns."

"He sounds Ferelden," Cassandra said as she studied the man, a frown creasing her brow. "Could this be your King Maric?"

"It is he," Flemeth's voice called from the darkness as she entered the cavern from a room to the south. "Or what's left of him, I should say," she added with an evil laugh, apparently amused by her own cruelty.

Morrigan took a few steps into the cavern. "Why the need to wake the dragons, Mother, if your intent was mere possession?"

"My Morrigan, ever so curious," Flemeth responded, keeping her distance from the group. "Immortality can only be gained with the blood of the queen dragon," she replied, gesturing toward the sleeping beast. "Once the ritual is complete, her blood will flow, and the possession will be permanent. I will have your beautiful face for all eternity, and oh the men I will consume!" Flemeth nodded to Alistair. "Perhaps I will begin with your King, since you value him so."

Alistair felt his stomach turn at the thought. "Not willingly, that's for sure."

Flemeth shrugged, unconcerned. "By the time we're through, you will be begging me for release. What matters how you felt at the start?"

"Enough!" Morrigan shouted, startling the others. "You will release my son, or I will kill you Mother."

"Foolish girl," said Flemeth, a golden light shining through her now translucent skin. "Don't you know by now that it is beyond your power to kill me?"

Hawke had seen this transformation before, yet had never faced Flemeth herself as a foe. She glanced meaningfully at Cassandra, and then at the sleeping queen. Cassandra seemed to have anticipated her, and nodded as she moved off in a flanking direction around the two witches. Hawke glanced quickly at Fenris, who gave her a grim smile, and the two assisted Morrigan in engaging Flemeth.

Alistair and Zevran fled to the right, determined to figure out what means held Aurelian. Six glowing runestones eerily hummed beneath the suspended child. "Help the others," Zevran told Alistair. "I will work on these."

"What do you know about runestones?" Alistair asked hurriedly, torn between freeing his child and saving his love.

"I have seen runestones used in this way, once before in Antiva," he assured Alistair. "It is only a matter of finding the correct order to disable them, much as any lock."

Alistair wasn't convinced Zevran would be able to solve the mystery of the runes. "There must be hundreds of combinations; how will you know which is right?"

"I will know, my good King, when he is free." Zevran waved a hand at him. "Now, go."

Alistair could do nothing but trust his son's life to Zevran's capable hands, as the sounds of combat behind him demanded his attention. Rushing into the fray to assist Fenris, the two warriors taunted the Flemeth-beast, as Hawke and her mabari attacked from behind. Neria remained a safe distance away, shielding the warriors and casting damaging spells of her own.

Because the fight was just beginning, Regalyan was less concerned about healing the group and more concerned about the man in the corner. He ran to Maric's side in an attempt to offer him healing again, but the old king weakly refused. "The blood," he whispered.

Regalyan leaned in to hear him over Flemeth's roar of rage. "Blood? What blood?"

"The blood...don't.. let it," Maric struggled to speak, swallowing past his dry mouth with difficulty.

Regalyan unhitched the waterskin from his robe and brought it to Maric's lips. After taking a few small sips he was able to finish his sentence. "You mustn't allow the blood to complete the circle."

Regalyan turned to look at the large indented circle that surrounded the queen dragon. He watched in horror as dark red liquid traveled the channels of the carved pattern, and ran to get closer and release a frost spell, hoping to halt its progress.

The blood continued to flow, slipping under the ice until it completed the circle. His heart dropped in his chest as he watched the crimson liquid begin to glow. Having a clear view of the queen from where he stood, Regalyan could see her eyes suddenly fly open. "Cas!" he called.

The dragon slayer was already in position, but Regalyan's warning came too late. Before she had the time to slice through the beasts scales to reach her heart, the queen rose to her feet, and with one swift jerking motion, Cassandra was thrown from the dragon's back.

Mass panic ensued and the combat intensified as the queen let forth a piercing roar. Whatever Flemeth's plan had been, it clearly had backfired, as waking the queen caused her more harm than good. Seeing another dragon as an immediate threat, the queen swiftly turned and bit down on Flemeth's neck, then tossed her from side to side in an effort to subdue her. The others were caught in the middle between the two dragons' fierce battle; Fenris and Alistair were nearly crushed as the massive bodies slammed against each other, and if it weren't for Neria shielding them both, they would never have survived such force. Hawke and Jaeger barely got out of the path of Flemeth's flailing tail, as they frantically tried to escape the queen's wrath. No one knew which one to attack, until Alistair called for them all to pull back. His hopes were the queen would kill Flemeth for them, and then they'd only have one dragon to deal with.

Flemeth, however, had other plans. Shifting back into her human form, which freed her from the queens jaws, the witch quickly shielded herself before calling to the creature. "It is I who have awoken you, and you _will_ do my bidding!"

The queen immediately halted her attack and appeared to be listening.

"Kill them all," said Flemeth coldly. The vicious beast's great head swiveled, and her attention was now directed toward their group of defenders.

Just as she opened her mouth to release her fiery breath, the ground beneath them began to tremble. Large pieces of the ceiling fell around them, shattering on the stone floor and pelting them with projectiles of sharp rock.

"Move!" shouted Alistair, and they began to retreat toward the entrance.

"What is happening?" Neria called over the loud rumbling that echoed through the shaking cavern.

Morrigan immediately sought sight of her son, who was no longer imprisoned. In the far corner of the cavern, behind the dragon and Flemeth, Aurelian's eyes were open and focused on the ground. Zevran stood behind him, his daggers drawn and at the ready.

"They'll be trapped," she whispered, realizing the boy was trying to save them all by burying Flemeth and the queen, making the Silent Grove their tomb.

"No, they will not," Alistair assured her. "Neria, Regalyan, cover me and Fenris. We have to give them time to get to us!"

Neria and Regalyan did as ordered, protecting the warriors as they re-engaged combat. Morrigan moved along the right side of the cavern, trying to reach Zevran and Aurelian, who were now joined by a limping Cassandra, as well as Hawke, and Jaeger.

"He's going to kill us all," Hawke said as she peered up at the fracturing ceiling.

Morrigan ignored her and knelt before Aurelian. "You've done enough. Release your spell and we will leave this place."

Aurelian turned his attention toward his mother, which broke the spell and silenced the quake. The cavern, however, was still collapsing in on itself from the initial tremors, and Morrigan wasted no time lifting her son into her arms and running for the entrance.

Fenris and Alistair saw the others dashing for the stairs, and they began their retreat as well. Flemeth attempted a spell in the group's direction to stop them, but with a wave of his hand, Aurelian sent a huge wave of force against the witch and the queen, and they were slammed against the back wall of the cavern. The impact caused more tremors, and the ceiling continued to fall.

Morrigan's blood ran cold as she heard her mother scream her name, and she nearly stopped and turned from the power of the summons.

At that moment Hawke shouted, "Run!" While at the same time, Aurelian whispered near her ear, "Mama."

She ran.

Alistair and Zevran grabbed Maric and helped him to his feet, and soon everyone was together again, hurrying up the stairway, as behind them the sounds of the cave-in continued to increase.

Dust from the collapse chased them upward, and the tunnel darkened as they ran. Retracing their path through Hall of the Sleepers, which was now sinking into on the cavern below, they managed to make it to the platform of the Eluvian, before they turned to watch the entire structure fall in behind them. Wasting no time, one by one they slipped through the flickering portal.

The two Kings barely made it through before the mirror went dark; its connecting point destroyed.


	20. End / Epilogue

With the thrill of the battle behind them, and the adrenaline finally dissipating throughout their bodies, reality of the situation slowly sank in. That and a few ignored wounds.

Regalyan focused his efforts on Cassandra, while quietly scolding her for coming dangerously close to death. He tried to shake the image of the queen dragon tossing his love aside, as one would flick a crumb from a table. When he had seen her fall, there was not enough air in the world to keep his lungs from collapsing.

"I was never worried with you watching over me," she whispered, not wishing the others to share in their intimate moment.

Neria and Zevran stood several paces away from the now defunct eluvian. Zevran lazily draped his arms over her shoulders as he stood behind her, watching the others. "I am rather surprised we all survived."

Neria pressed her back into his chest, and tilted her head to look up at him. "Did we? All survive I mean? He doesn't look so good," she stated, as she gestured toward the old king.

"We shall see," are the only words Zevran could find to say to her.

Hawke and Fenris had also given space to those who remained near the eluvian. Jaeger happily panted as he sat with the two, enjoying the massage from his master. Hawke applied slight pressure to the muscles of her hound, working through the kinks caused by his valiant efforts in the battle. Fenris allowed himself a moment to nearly smile, watching Hawke take care of Jaeger. It was a simple task, but one he realized he had missed during their time apart.

Maric hadn't moved, or uttered another word, since they'd returned to the spacious cavern hidden near Lake Calenhad. He was alive, though barely, as Alistair knelt beside him. "There was so much I wanted to say to him when I was growing up," he whispered, staring down at the face so similar to his own. "Now I am at a loss for words."

Morrigan stood behind him, Aurelian at her side. She hadn't a clue what to say either; never the type to offer comfort, or understand emotions, as some had enjoyed pointing out to her at one time. When both Neria and Regalyan had failed in healing the former king, everyone had left the couple and their son to say their goodbyes to the king.

Alistair took Maric's hand in his. It felt strange to do so, knowing his father would not even notice or care he'd made the soothing gesture. So many questions would remain unanswered, and the anger of abandonment would linger in his heart, perhaps for the rest of his life. Yet Alistair struggled to contain the tightness in his throat that always preceded his tears. He was the king now, not this man who lay near death. He could afford to show no weakness. Is that something his father might have said to him? Alistair shrugged at the thought. Now, he would never know.

Aurelian pulled away from Morrigan and went to Alistair. He bent his knees enough to grasp Alistair's free hand, and then held it as he stepped over Maric. Reaching down to take Maric's other hand, the three Theirin's were now, for the first time, joined together.

Cassandra was the first to feel the change in the air. A soft golden glow began to radiate from Aurelian's hand that held Maric's. Neria noticed too, and gasped in wonder at the boy, while at the same time Fenris' posture stiffened. Jaeger cocked his head to the side, his intelligent face expressing the same wonder that was reflected on the humans.

Alistair felt the rising warmth which radiated from his son, through him and into Maric. Though he doubted it was enough power to bring the man back from near death, it was enough to bring him to consciousness. It wasn't long before Aurelian released Maric and Alistair, and paused only to look at his father briefly, before returning to Morrigan. She put a protective hand to his back, and they silently moved away to allow Alistair a moment alone with his father.

"The boy?" Maric whispered, his voice raspy from illness, or lack of use, Alistair wasn't sure.

"Your grandson," Alistair informed him. Did it matter to him? Alistair wondered in that brief moment if family had ever been a concern of Maric's.

Maric titled his head to get a glimpse of the child as he moved away. "A mage?"

Alistair followed his father's gaze and rested his eyes upon his son. A good question. Was he a mage as well as a child born with the soul of an old god? Looking at him now, Alistair could only see an innocent boy; conceived in a night of desperation, but also the product of a love he was finally accepting.

"A blessing," Alistair finally replied. "A reminder that life is a gift, and should be cherished as one. And my chance to finally have a family."

The words may have stung, but if they did Maric didn't reveal it. "You're lucky then," was his reply. "We don't all get that opportunity."

"No," Alistair agreed. "I don't suppose we do." His inner child was screaming inside, begging to say all the hateful and hurtful things he had thought about Maric when he was growing up. But seeing the man now, so vulnerable and broken, Alistair didn't have the heart. "We aren't far from the Circle," Alistair informed him. "The mages with their combined magic may be able to heal you."

Maric shook his head. "My time is done here son," he whispered. "It has been for a very long time."

Alistair ignored his words and stood, prepared to carry the man to the Circle himself if necessary. "We'll have you there within a day," he promised him.

"Alistair." Maric said his name as only a father could, with a tone that implied his words were to be listened to and obeyed. "As your father, your King, I tell you I am done, and I mean it. I order you with what power is left to me. I will hear no argument from you. Leave me."

Hearing Maric use his name, address him in such a way, that inner child of Alistair's hid in the corner of his mind like a scolded adolescent. "I'm not just going to leave you here to die alone," Alistair protested quietly.

"I know I have not been a father to you, but would you deny me my dying wish because of it?" Maric looked upon eyes that reflected his very own. "Go, be the true king of Ferelden. Raise your son and have your family. Waste no more time here, hoping to find answers I can not give you."

He didn't want to admit it, but Maric had a point. He wasn't a father to him, not in the sense that Alistair wished he would've been. The man was dying, and was unable to give him what he'd needed, or had wanted, for so many years. He had accepted life without a father for so long, why should that change now?

Looking at Aurelian again, the pain of history repeating itself tightened his heart, and Alistair made a solemn vow to himself that the cycle of abandonment would end here, with Maric, the father he himself had never known. "As you wish, my King," Alistair said with a bow, before walking over to Morrigan and enveloping his son's small hand in his. If Maric wanted to die alone, then so be it.

"Let's go," Alistair said to the others. "It's time to go home."

**._.~'~._.*~*~*._.~'~._.**

They had spent one more night camping together before going their separate ways. It was a bittersweet time - one of rejoicing in their success, but also of saying goodbye to old friends and new. Not surprising, by morning's light only Alistair, Morrigan, and Aurelian remained. The others had taken their leave, gone to face their own futures, wherever that may lead them.

Cassandra and Regalyan informed the others before they left that they would make sure Flemeth's tomb was secure. They returned to White Spire in Val Royeaux and recruited a few Templars and mages to return to the Tellari swamps and confirm the destruction of the Silent Grove. The destruction was clear even on the surface, as there was a large indentation, nearly a crater, scarring the earth from the collapse. Many wondered how Cassandra and Regalyan had made it out alive, as did they, when they studied the remains of the area. It was a moment they all took to appreciate each other and life in general.

Under the supervision of the Templars, the mages had set up several wards around the area as protection for those that may travel to, or stumble upon, the desolate location. They also added a few wards to keep trapped whatever may yet lie beneath, should anything have survived.

Leliana was overjoyed to hear of Cassandra's return, and had spent some time with her and Regalyan on their leave from White Spire, listening to the tales of all that transpired. Except for Maric; Regalyan and Cassandra had vowed to keep that part of the tale from the bard, as it wasn't their story to tell. Leliana was happy to hear Neria and Zevran were reunited, and had already begun forming songs in her head about the journey in which the defenders had endured.

After witnessing what had happened between Alistair and Maric, Hawke had begun thinking of her own family, and their time in Lothering. Before traveling back to Kirkwall, she, Fenris, and Jaeger returned to the last place where she'd lived with her mother and father, her brother and sister - the last place they'd been a real family. Hawke faced the demons of her past with her love by her side, and was glad to see that Lothering had in fact been rebuilt, and was thriving as never before.

She was even rewarded for her bravery by running into some old friends who had escaped Lothering, only to return when news spread of its resurrection. Alistair remained true to his word and had sent aid to the city as well, and Hawke and Fenris remained long enough to assist in the final stages of restoration.

Upon their return to Kirkwall, Hawke was consistently dragged off to the Hanged Man by Varric, who was determined to transcribe every word she spoke concerning her latest adventure. Hawke didn't think it was her imagination that the dwarf looked disappointed that he'd missed out on it himself. Both Hawke and Fenris, however, had agreed to keep Maric's part of the story to themselves; let his tale remain as it was, and save Alistair the pain of questions from the nobles and the curious folk of Ferelden.

Neria and Zevran went back to Amaranthine, where a celebration was quickly prepared for the Hero's return. Having been apart the longest, aside from unavoidable duty, Neria spent her time with Zevran, making up for, in every way she could think of, the long year they had lost. Neria took leave from the Wardens for a brief time to travel with Zevran to the Dalish, where she shared with their Keeper the maps that Morrigan had provided.

The Keeper was fascinated with this new find, and sent word to other clans for a meeting. Zevran and Neria remained until the gathering, sharing what information Morrigan gave them, as well as their own experiences through the eluvian. With the hope that the historic objects were no longer tainted by darkspawn, the Dalish were excited to begin traveling to several locations to do more research.

Before leaving the gathering, Zevran had one more event planned for Neria. With the help of the Keepers and the Elders from all the clans, he had prepared a surprise wedding for her. They were married in a traditional Dalish ceremony, and spent their honeymoon in the Free Marches, ending their trip in Kirkwall to visit with Hawke and Fenris. The four of them, five including Jaeger, then left for Val Royeaux to meet up with Cassandra, in fulfillment of a promise to assist in the upcoming war.

Morrigan had no expectations when it came to Alistair and his promises to remain involved in her and Aurelian's lives. When he said he needed to go to Redcliffe to coordinate efforts to retrieve Maric's body, she did not offer to go with him. It wouldn't be proper for the King of Ferelden to be seen with an apostate, nor would it be good for him to be traveling with a child who resembled him, as Aurelian most certainly did. Especially in Redcliffe, where the king had spent his own childhood, since Aurelian was the spitting image of Alistair as a boy.

He'd asked for one promise from her; that she return to Dragon's Peak and wait for him. Against her better judgment she did so, but warned him she was not going to wait for long.

Alistair met with Teagan and Eamon and filled them in on what had happened. The news that Maric had been alive, and was now truly dead, was a shock to Eamon in particular, who had wished more than anything he could've been there. It was decided amongst the three of them that the secret should remain as such for as long as possible, but that Maric deserved a proper Chantry funeral. Assigning only the most trustworthy guards to accompany them, they set out to retrieve the former king's body.

When they returned to the cave however, Maric's corpse was nowhere to be found. There was no sign of struggle, or evidence that animals or bandits had been there, and Eamon insisted that Maric must have walked out of there on his own. Alistair assured him that was not possible; his father had been on death's door, and had confirmed as much, but Eamon reminded him this was not the first time King Maric was thought dead. Was that the real reason Maric has been so insistent that Alistair leave? Had Aurelian been able to heal him after all?

Alistair wasn't sure if he was relieved or angry at this news. Now he was left wondering, yet again, if his father was alive or dead, and if he'd ever hear from him. He considered looking for the man, but it was clear by his actions that if he was alive, he didn't want to be found. Resolving himself to the fact that this time was no different the rest of his entire life, Alistair left the caves. He bid farewell to Eamon and returned to Denerim - the guards accompanying him under Eamon's insistence.

Returning to the castle, and to his queen, put Alistair in a very foul mood. The shrill sound of her voice increased the pounding in his head as she bellowed through the halls with joy over his safe return. Why she insisted on putting on this show of a warm and loving marriage in front of Eamon's guards... it was enough to make him sick. Grabbing Habren's hand in front of their unwanted audience, Alistair pulled her into the nearest room and shut the door.

"I see your travels did nothing for your manners Alistair," she scolded, brushing off her dress as if he'd dirtied it. "And you positively stink of dog."

"Yes, well, traveling with a dog will do that," Alistair stated as he dropped into the nearest chair. "Habren, we need to talk."

He had been as honest as possible with her, letting her know that throughout the years he had tried his hardest, but there would never be any love between them. Not surprisingly, she admitted the same, and even hinted there was another she had loved before accepting the position as his queen. They had apparently been corresponding as of late, this man in South Reach, whom she had left to marry Alistair.

Eamon had discussed, in great length, the repercussions of ending a royal marriage when they'd been together in Redcliffe. While the situation was not ideal, and a public breakup probably not the best political move at the moment, what with a mage/Templar war on the horizon, Alistair and Habren did manage to come to an agreement.

Alistair made the arrangements for her former lover to move to Denerim. Assuming she could be discreet about their relations, Alistair would permit her to visit him as often as she liked, with the understanding that Alistair would also be taking several trips away from the castle. He hadn't offered any names, or the truth that he had a son, but he doubted Habren cared.

Her face lit up when he agreed to allow their relationship to happen, and for the first time in years the atmosphere in the castle shifted in a positive manner. With their new mutual understanding, they got along much better as King and Queen, so much so that Alistair was proud to now call his wife a friend.

Morrigan was surprised when he showed up that first night, and even more shocked when he reiterated his promise to remain in their lives. That the three of them would be a real family in every way that was possible. True to his word, Alistair spent weekends, summers, and holidays on top of Dragon's Peak with her and their son. It was a happiness Morrigan had never expected, or experienced, but nevertheless gladly indulged in. She cared little about the throne, and worried less and less about Aurelian being used in his role as Alistair's heir.

It was enough that the man she could finally admit she loved was with her, and her son would know his father.

* * *


End file.
